


Embracing Change (Term 1)

by NZLisaM



Category: Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman
Genre: Drama, Family, Friendship, Gen, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 11:24:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2307908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NZLisaM/pseuds/NZLisaM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Follow Colleen’s experiences at college.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I wish these wonderful characters of Beth Sullivan’s belonged to me, but unfortunately the rights belong to CBS, and The Sullivan Company. Rest-assured I am not making a cent off of this story.
> 
> EDITOR: My utmost thanks go out to Heather for once again agreeing to proofread for me. I always appreciate your comments and support!
> 
> ~Lisa (NZLisaM).

_Friday, July 14th 1871_ *

Colleen gazed excitedly out the window as the train whistle blew and the engine puffed and ground to a screeching halt alongside the Denver station. She had traveled by train on several occasions, but it felt both strange and thrilling to be making the journey alone. The occupants of the car began to gather their belongings, the men folding up newspapers and straightening jackets, while the women fussed with hair, and organized children. Colleen hurriedly joined the queue of passengers heading to the door. At the exit, the conductor reached up and relinquished her of her carpetbag, setting it down on the station’s wooden platform. Taking Colleen’s hand he helped her down the metal steps.

“The rest of your bags will be unloaded momentarily, miss,” he instructed.

Feeling suddenly adrift, Colleen stood numbly off to the side next to her carpetbag and scanned the platform for a man brandishing a sign with her name on it. His name was Mr. Baker, and his sister owned, and ran, the boarding house she would be staying at. Due to only being given a week’s notice that she’d been accepted to Colorado Seminary College, there hadn’t been time to visit, but the college had recommended several boarding houses, and the one Colleen had been accepted to had come highly recommended. She knew her ma in particular was a little concerned over not seeing where she would be living, and worried that it wouldn’t be suitable accommodation for a young lady.

Not spotting her driver, Colleen nervously adjusted her cloak, stepping over to a nearby bench to wait. She blushed, as several men milling around the depot watched her progress. She knew she looked fetching in her sophisticated travel clothes, and she said a silent ‘thank you’ to Emma for creating such a beautiful outfit for her to wear. Surveying the busy platform, she hoped Mr. Baker would appear soon, as she was tired from her journey, and anxious to settle into the boarding house, and meet her fellow students.

Another five minutes passed before Colleen spotted a distinguished looking older gentleman heading her way. He paused in front of her, bowing slightly as he lifted his hat.

He smiled broadly, his face warm and open. “Miss Cooper?” he inquired, extending his hand in greeting.

“Yes, I am,” Colleen smiled, standing to shake his hand. “Pleased to meet you. I really appreciate you comin’ to collect me.”

“It ain’t no bother. I always meet first-terms at the station. Sorry I weren’t here when you arrived. My errands ran longer than expected.”

“No problem,” Colleen said politely, just pleased that he had arrived.

Mr. Baker made quick work of organizing and loading Colleen’s luggage, and then they were on their way. They drove through the busy streets of Denver until they reached a stylish neighborhood of Victorian houses. Mr. Baker drew the carriage to a stop in front of a charming two-story, white-painted house. From her seat, Colleen peered over the wrought-iron fence that separated the yard from the street. She studied the huge bay window, the tidy front yard, and the wide, covered front porch, complete with porch swing, with a mixture of relief and admiration. The house looked inviting and homely, and she was hugely grateful, given that it would be her home for the next two years.

Mr. Baker came around to her side. “Here we are, Miss Cooper. I’ll escort you inside then see to your luggage.”

Smoothing her dark blue dress down, Colleen rose from her seat, and allowed Mr. Baker to guide her down to the cobbled sidewalk. The gate squeaked as he held it open for Colleen. Halfway up the garden path, the door opened and a large woman wearing a simple grey dress and white apron stepped out onto the porch.

“Ah, Agnes,” Mr. Baker greeted. “Allow me to introduce Miss Colleen Cooper. Miss Cooper, this is Mrs. Phelps, owner of this establishment.”

Colleen met the older woman’s eyes, a little warily, as she noticed the woman wasn’t smiling. “How do you do, Mrs. Phelps? I’m very excited about livin’ here, and I thank you for the opportunity.”

Mrs. Phelps looked Colleen up-and-down, and nodded her approval. “Welcome, Miss Cooper. You’re the first of the four first-terms to arrive, so you will have first pick of bedroom. There are only two single rooms and one double available, so the last two girls to arrive will be the one’s sharin’.”

“From your letter, I was led to believe there were five other girls, aside from me?”

Colleen could tell by the look on Mrs. Phelps’ face that she was impressed by Colleen’s observation. “That’s correct. Cousins, Cora and Dora Stein are startin’ their second year of college, havin’ resided with us last year. They currently share the second of the double rooms.” Entering the house, Mrs. Phelps called over her shoulder, “Now, follow me, I ain’t got all day!”

Giving Mr. Baker a parting wave, Colleen clutched her carpetbag to her chest, and hurriedly followed. Given the heat of the summer’s day, the house was surprisingly cool. Looking around the foyer, Colleen’s eyes were drawn to the cherry staircase, which stretched up ahead of her, dominating the small room. Hearing voices through the open door on her right, she just caught a glimpse of two dark-haired girls seated on the settee, heads bent close together, before Mrs. Phelps whisked her away.

“The rest of the girl’s are due shortly, and I will introduce you then. We will be meetin’ promptly in the dinin’ room at 12 noon, followed by a house meetin’ in the parlor.” She indicated to the closed door on her left. “Durin’ the meetin’ I will outline the household rules. If you stick to my rules, you will find me strict, but fair. If you intend to break the rules, then your time here will be most tryin’.” Mrs. Phelps ascended the stairs quickly, surprisingly agile for someone with her ample frame.

“Yes, ma’am,” Colleen said meekly, climbing up after her.

“On this level are four bedrooms.” She headed around to the left. “You may choose one of these two rooms. The bedrooms to the right of the stairs belong to Mr. Baker and me.” She walked down the hall until they reached a set of stairs on the left. “Up those stairs are two large attic bedrooms. Miss Stein and Miss Stein occupy one and the other is for two of the first-terms.”

After inspecting both rooms, Colleen selected the one at the back of the house, directly opposite the stairs to the third floor. She thought it would be more private as the one small window overlooked the backyard.

Satisfied that she’d made the right choice, Colleen looked around her new room with admiration. Bare of possessions, currently it wasn’t much to look at, but once she added her own things it would be as close to her bedroom at home as she could make it.

Mr. Baker appeared in the doorway, lugging Colleen’s trunk. Making his way carefully across the room he deposited it at the foot of her bed. “There you go, Miss Cooper.”

Colleen expressed her thanks, and with a nod, Mr. Baker left the room.

Mrs. Phelps hovered in the doorway, gripping the doorknob. “I recommend that you use this time to freshen up and unpack,” she advised. “See you downstairs at twelve o’clock,” were her parting words.

Colleen removed her bonnet, cloak, and black lace gloves, and sank down on the edge of the bed, bouncing a couple of times to test its comfort level. _Not bad,_ she thought. _But not as nice as my bed at home!_

Feeling a little wistful, she shook her head to clear it, determined to focus on getting settled, and not dwell on thoughts of home.

Standing, she headed to her trunk and began unpacking. She was hanging up her dresses in the wardrobe when she heard the chime of a bell somewhere within the house. Concerned that it might represent something that she should be aware of, she hurried to her bedside table to check her clock, but it wasn’t yet midday. Moments later, she heard the sound of a door opening, and greetings being exchanged. She gave a sigh of relief; the bell must be for the front door. She’d have to remember that in future!

Colleen lined up her books on the little shelf above her bed, including the medical reference text given to her by Dr. Mike. At the bottom of her trunk, wrapped carefully in one of her shawls was her only picture of the family. As she crossed the room, Colleen brushed her hand across the photograph, before placing it next to her bed, so her family would be the first thing she saw every morning upon waking. It was a shame there hadn’t been time to photograph a picture to include baby Katie, but her ma had promised they’d have a family portrait done for Katie’s christening.

The last thing she unpacked was her most recent possession – given to her moments before she’d boarded the train at Colorado Springs. Sliding a long red velvet case out of her carpetbag she snapped it open to gaze upon the pen that had belonged to her Maternal Grandfather. The same pen Josef Quinn had gifted to his daughter when she’d been Colleen’s age and leaving for college. Now her ma had passed it on to her – her eldest daughter. One day I will give it to Katie for her college journey, Colleen promised herself.

Ten minutes to twelve o’clock saw Colleen heading downstairs, eagerly anticipating meeting the other boarders. Warm sunshine streamed brightly through the front window of the foyer, giving the area a homely and inviting feel. Colleen paused at the dining room door, wondering whether she was expected to knock. She was still contemplating her dilemma when she heard approaching footsteps.

“You can just go right in,” a voice said behind her, young and female. “You don’t hafta knock.”

“Although you wouldn’t have gotten in trouble anyways,” said another voice, sounding almost identical to the first. “As you’re a new boarder and Mrs. Phelps hasn’t yet gone over the rules.”

As they spoke, Colleen turned to face them. It was the girls she had spotted on her way in. Seeing them up close Colleen concluded that they had to be the cousins, Dora and Cora, as their facial features, and shade of dull brown hair were too similar for them to be unrelated. In fact they looked more like sisters! Furthermore, their dresses were identical, except one was pink, the other blue. They had even styled their hair in the same tight knot.

Colleen took a step forward, “How do you do. I’m Colleen. Colleen Cooper.”

The girls greeted her enthusiastically. ‘Pink dress’ introduced herself as Dora Stein, and her cousin, a.k.a. ‘blue dress’, as Cora.

“We’re more like sisters though,” Dora gushed, confirming Colleen’s initial thoughts.

“We do everything together,” Cora echoed, as the trio entered the dining room.

No one occupied the room so they had their pick of seats. Colleen chose a seat on the left-hand side, while Dora and Cora sat opposite.

“So you’ve already completed a year of college?” Colleen asked.

Dora and Cora nodded in unison. “This is our third term livin’ here. The girls we shared with all graduated this past May.”

“Except for Martha,” Cora reminded her cousin. “She went home halfway through last term. She couldn’t handle the pressures of college.”

Colleen felt a lump forming in her throat. What if that happened to her? How would she face her family, friends, and the townspeople? She would be humiliated. Folks back home were counting on her to succeed, since she was the first female student from Colorado Springs to be accepted to college. Dorothy had even written a story about her for the Gazette. She prayed she’d be able to keep up with the workload, and control the homesickness associated with living away from home.

Dora laughed. “Cora, don’t scare Colleen.” She leaned across the table. “Don’t worry Colleen; Martha was a very nervous person. You look like you have a good head on your shoulders.”

Colleen hoped that was true. She was about to reply when a pretty girl with pale blonde hair, and sparkling blue eyes bounced into the room. “I’m Josephine Duvall, Josie,” she announced, collapsing into the chair next to Colleen. “I just arrived. I haven’t even had to chance to see my room, or unpack. Apparently, I’ve been informed, that as the second to last girl to arrive I have to share a room, can you believe it!”

“Goodness,” Dora’s hand flew to her mouth, “is one of the girls late? Mrs. Phelps won’t be happy. She’s awful strict when it comes to punctuality.” She made the introductions to Josie.

“You’re startin’ college as well, right?” Colleen asked.

“Yes, yes I am.” Josie confirmed, brushing a cease from the bodice of her fashionable, plum-colored dress. “I’m from Chicago. You?”

“Colorado Springs. Three hour train ride, south.”

The door opened again, and a girl with honey blonde hair slipped into the room, flanked closely by Mr. Baker and Mrs. Phelps.

Mrs. Phelps’ gaze traveled up and down the table. “I see you’re all on time. An excellent start girls.” She marched to the head of the table. Her brother took the other head, while the yet-to-be introduced girl sat down next to Josie.

The boarding house owner’s eyes rested on the empty chair next to Cora Stein. “I received a telegram this mornin’ informin’ me that Miss Belmore-Allen is runnin’ late, her excuse bein’ that she had to travel all the way from New York. This doesn’t impress me as she was given plenty of notice and should have taken into account potential delays, and obstacles, and arranged her trip accordingly.”

Colleen heard the girl with the honey blonde hair whisper excitedly to Josie something along the lines of the Belmore-Allen’s of New York!

Overhearing, Mrs. Phelps addressed the gossiping pair. “Yes, thank you Miss Coleman. They are indeed those Belmore-Allen’s of New York.”

Miss Coleman, a.k.a. honey blonde haired girl flushed with embarrassment. Colleen frowned, wondering if her ma or her grandma knew the Belmore-Allen’s. She’d have to ask Dr. Mike in her first letter home.

A door near Mrs. Phelps’ chair swung open and a young woman, not much older than Colleen entered the room, carrying a tray of fresh, home-made cornbread.

Glancing at the woman, Mrs. Phelps addressed the table. “This here’s Miss Swanson. She helps out in the kitchen and works 9am-5pm, Monday to Thursday.”

The group exchanged pleasantries with Miss Swanson, who greeted them warmly before returning to the kitchen.

“As you are aware from the letter you all received,” Mrs. Phelps began. “My name is Agnes Phelps and I have been boardin’ girls from Colorado Seminary College since the passin’ of my husband ten years ago. I will be addressed by you as Mrs. Phelps or Ma-am, and my brother as Mr. Baker or Sir, no exceptions.”

“Followin’ lunch I will outline the rules of the house. Now I would like each of you to state your name, and where you are from.” She indicated that Colleen should begin.

Colleen proceeded to introduce herself and the other girls quickly followed suit. The honey blonde girl was called Sylvia Coleman, and like Josie she was from Chicago. The cousins, Dora and Cora, were actually born and raised in Denver. During the conversation Miss Swanson carried in a pot of delicious smelling beef stew, a pitcher of lemonade, and finally, a sponge cake decorated with vanilla icing. Following introductions, Mrs. Phelps announced that they should eat. After the boarding house matron led them in a short prayer, Colleen hungrily selected a piece of cornbread from the tray in front of her. Taking a bite she savored the moist, slightly sweet flavor.

Following lunch the girls, along with Mrs. Phelps adjourned to the parlor. Colleen sat between Josie and Sylvia on the settee, while the cousins occupied two armchairs. Mrs. Phelps stood next to a wooden board, which was on the same wall as the door to the parlor, and used a long wooden ruler to point to the list of rules pinned to the board.

“On this board I post all notices regardin’ this household, the college, and any local events and happenings that may interest you. You are all welcome to post your own notices, but I will be monitorin’ all content, and anythin’ I deem inappropriate will be removed immediately.”

“Monday to Friday, Mr. Baker collects the mail and telegrams from the post office, and all mail addressed to you will be placed on the table in the foyer for you to collect.”

Mrs. Phelps was about to continue when she was interrupted by a knock on the closed parlor door.

“Enter!” Mrs. Phelps instructed. The door opened and Mr. Baker walked into the room accompanied by a poised young woman, wearing an expensive royal blue gown with white lace trim. With her dark brown hair, pale complexion, and dark blue eyes she was one of the most beautiful girls Colleen had ever seen.

“Miss Belmore-Allen,” Mr. Baker announced, closing the door behind him on his way out.

“Miss Belmore-Allen!” Mrs. Phelps echoed. “How nice of you to finally join us.”

Most girls in her position would have looked embarrassed, and flustered at arriving late, but Colleen observed the girl as she faced Mrs. Phelps straight on, not looking sorry in the least. “My apologies for my tardiness, Mrs. Phelps,” she said smoothly, her words not matching her expression. “My delay was unavoidable.”

Mrs. Phelps sniffed. “Please find a seat, and introduce yourself.”

Because all the seats were occupied, the girl was forced to perch on the edge of a footstool, and Colleen noted that she didn’t look happy about it. “My name is Wilhelmina Belmore-Allen of the Belmore-Allen’s of New York, but I will allow you to call me Willa.”

 _Allow!_ Colleen was unimpressed by the girl’s nerve. A quick glance at Sylvia and Josie and then across at the cousins revealed that the rest of the girls were enthralled by every word Wilhelmina spoke. Colleen was more determined than ever to find out more about the Belmore-Allen’s!

“Thank you,” Mrs. Phelps sounded as unimpressed by Willa’s showy behavior as Colleen was. “Now – I will have to go through the rules quicker than planned as Matriculation for the first-terms begins at two o’clock.”

“Rule number one, you are responsible for keepin’ your rooms clean and tidy. Cleanin’ supplies are housed in the kitchen. Miss Swanson will show you where. All other rooms will be taken care of by myself, and Miss Swanson, but you are expected to tidy up after yourselves when usin’ any of the rooms and are not permitted to leave your schoolbooks and possessions lyin’ around.”

“Rule number two, all meals are provided, breakfast is served promptly at 7am, lunch at noon, and supper at 6pm. It is not mandatory to attend meals, but if you do choose to eat here you are expected to arrive on time.”

“Rule number three, all guests, male or female, are to be visited with here in the parlor. Guests are not permitted upstairs, unless permission is granted. You may invite a guest to dinner, but you must clear it with me first.”

Josie and Sylvia shot each other shy smiles at the mention of ‘male’ guests.

“Rule number four, curfew on weekdays and Sunday is 7pm if you are not in for supper. If you do attend supper you are not permitted to leave the house afterwards. For Friday – “

“Ma-am,” Willa interjected. “It is unreasonable to expect me to be in by 7pm. I’m not a child!”

Colleen had to admit she had a point! Not being able to go out after supper was a major letdown, although she would never dream of interrupting Mrs. Phelps the way Willa just had!

“Then perhaps you should stop actin’ like one, Miss Belmore-Allen. That is the rule, and I expect you to adhere to it, or there will be consequences such as extra chores and loss of privileges. Now as I was sayin’ before I was rudely interrupted, on Friday and Saturday nights you may stay out as late as 11pm. If you have an engagement on either of those nights that runs later than 11pm, you may discuss it with me, and if I decide it’s appropriate, I will allow you to stay out later.”

“Rule number five, all girls must be fully dressed at all times, and are not permitted to wander the house in their nightclothes.”

Next to Colleen, Josie giggled, but then quickly covered her mouth when Mrs. Phelps glared at her.

“Rule number six, the sun room accessed from the kitchen is off limits to all students. It is a private area for Mr. Baker, Miss Swanson, and myself to relax in. You may use this room to converge, and socialize.”

It took another ten minutes for the boarding house owner to go through the rest of the rules, which ranged from hygiene to manners and behavior, to academic expectations. By this time it was one-thirty, and the walk to campus to report for matriculation would take at least twenty minutes. Mrs. Phelps instructed the girls to quickly retrieve their purses from their rooms and report back downstairs in two minutes. The girls raced upstairs in a flurry of excitement and activity.

In her room Colleen grabbed her purse, which hung over one of the posts at the end of her bed. Opening her nightstand drawer she retrieved her college paperwork and stuffed it into her bag. Crossing the room, she was about to open her door, when she heard a raised voice drifting through from the hall.

“ _Share!_ ” a cultured voice hissed. “It was my understanding that I would have my own room.”

Careful not to reveal her presence, Colleen opened the door just wide enough to reveal a red-faced Willa, standing with her hands on her hips, glaring at an unfortunate Josie. Obviously Willa had just discovered that she was expected to share an attic bedroom!

Josie bit her lip. “Come on Willa,” she pleaded. “Sharin’ a room will be fun!”

“Wait until my parents hear about this!” Willa fumed, stomping toward the staircase.

“Willa!” Josie cried, rushing after her.

Only when their footfalls had faded away did Colleen open her door the rest of the way, and step out into the hall. Poor Josie! Colleen thanked her lucky stars that she had a room to herself!

~*~*~*~

* In Having it All Colleen states that she has to be in Denver the following Friday the fourteen for matriculation, but doesn’t specify which month. We know from the timeline of that episode that it’s summer 1871, and according to the 1871 calendar, July 14th fell on a Friday that year, so July it is! :-) Note: the timeline at the official site has Colleen starting college in August, but due to me incorporating a real event into my story in a later chapter, I need to follow the 1871 calendar, but have tried to match events to the timeline when possible.


	2. Chapter 2

Cora and Dora escorted the small group to the college. Being second years they weren’t required to attend matriculation, as their class schedules were sent out by post, but had kindly offered to show their fellow students the campus. Colleen thought it was generous of the cousins to give up their Friday afternoon, and a lot more fun than having an adult along.

Others were not so grateful, and were not shy in saying so.

“I can’t believe I actually have to walk!” Willa moaned, scuffing the toe of her shoe into a groove of the paved street. “In New York I have my own carriage and driver.”

Colleen increased her pace so she didn’t have to listen to Willa complain. In the lead, Cora pointed out several buildings of interest along the way, including the Denver Public Library, a café that was a favorite of the students, and a small park that was perfect for picnicking in the summer and spring.

As much as she loved Colorado Springs, Colleen was impressed by all the modern buildings, and excited about the prospect of living in a city, and being exposed to new things.

Looking both ways to check the street was clear, Cora indicated for the others to follow. Reaching the other side, Colleen noted the large plaque on the high stone wall, Colorado Seminary College. The girls bounded up the steep stone steps at the entrance and stepped onto a large grassy courtyard. In front of them were several buildings, with multiple passageways and doorways, complete with students rushing in every direction. The sight was a little overwhelming to say the least!

Noticing their glum expressions, Dora shot them a sympathetic look. “Don’t look so panicky. That’s what we’re here for.” She leaned in Sylvia’s direction. “Let me see your college letter.”

Sylvia handed it over, and Dora skimmed the contents. “You need to report to Beaumont Hall to receive your class schedule. Does anyone else require that buildin’?”

It turned out Josie did as well, so after a brief discussion between the cousins regarding where to meet up later, Dora left with the two first years.

Colleen knew her letter off by heart, so she didn’t need to look at it. “I’m Siever Hall,” she announced.

Willa frowned at her over top of her own letter, “So am I.”

“Well that makes things simple,” Cora said, starting in the opposite direction to which her cousin had taken.

Colleen hoped this didn’t mean she would be sharing the same classes as Willa. Although, she was kind of curious to know what type of student Willa was, as she seemed so spoilt. She must be smart though, to have been accepted to college. On the other hand, why was she attending a small college in Denver and not some big fancy one in New York where she lived!

She must have been staring because Willa’s eyes narrowed. “Is there a problem, Colleen?” she asked, sharply.

Colleen shook her head, quickly turning away to catch up with Cora. The two girls strolled in unison across the grass, with Willa trailing. Cora led them to a building on the far side with a sign above the door which read ‘Siever Hall’.

Once inside, Colleen and Willa joined the queue of students in the entranceway to receive their class schedules. Cora spotted a group of second years she was friendly with, and promising to return when they were closer to the front, she left Colleen and Willa alone.

Five minutes passed, and the line didn’t seem to be moving at all. Colleen shifted from foot to foot, tired of standing still. Out of the corner of her eye she observed Willa flicking the strap of her expensive-looking handbag, a bored, unapproachable expression on her face.

As the silence between them stretched, Colleen decided to try and attempt conversation. Maybe she had judged Willa too harshly, and too quickly. After all it was only the first day, and everything was strange and new. Willa was probably just reacting to the unfamiliar situation. Also, they would be spending the next two years together, so it was important to Colleen that they got along.

“So what made you decide to attend a college in Denver?” Colleen inquired, voicing her earlier thought.

From her queue position in front of Colleen, Willa half-turned to face her. “My brother lives here. He owns the Hotel Pavilion, as well as several businesses in the center of town,” she replied, her tone cool. “My mother and father wanted me to attend college in a city where a relative resided.”

 _Didn’t her parents count as relatives?_ Colleen wondered, but she didn’t dare pose the question.

“I’ve heard of it,” Colleen said instead. “My ma stayed there last year.”

Willa nodded, turning her back on Colleen once more.

Colleen tried again, “Do you have any other brothers and sisters? I have two brothers – one older, one younger.”

“No.” She didn’t even bother to turn and face Colleen this time; just delivered her answer in one short, sharp syllable.

Becoming annoyed, Colleen pressed her further. “I would’ve thought a school in New York City would’ve been a better option?”

For a fraction of a second Colleen thought she noticed an unsettled look cross Willa’s face but it disappeared almost instantly. Colleen felt satisfied that she’d hit a nerve, although a small part of her felt guilty for feeling that way.

Willa whirled around to confront her, “Like I just said … my brother lives here, and we share a close relationship. I expect he will be visiting me at the boarding house all the time.”

Colleen blew out a frustrated breath. Well she’d tried!

~*~*~*~

“My first class Monday is botany,” Sylvia screwed up her nose.

“At least you’ll get it out of the way,” Josie said, reaching over to pat her hand.

It was just before dinner, and the six students had gathered in the parlor to compare schedules, and discuss their first day on campus.

Botany was Colleen’s first subject Monday as well, so it would be nice to have Josie in her class. Colleen was happy with her schedule of botany, geology, trigonometry, history, and composition, but a little disappointed that physiology wasn’t one of her first term classes since she had been looking forward to that class the most.

Also, she was a little apprehensive when it came to trigonometry as the Reverend had never covered that mathematical subject in school. After picking up their schedules, and accompanying book lists, the three girls had stopped by the campus bookstore where Colleen had browsed through a copy of the required text for the course entitled ‘Trigonometric Tables and Functions’, and had found the material to be both confusing and complicated. When selecting her courses, Colleen had deliberately chosen trigonometry, thinking that it would be exciting and challenging to select a subject that she was completely unfamiliar with, but now she was starting to regret her decision. Added to that, all the other girls were either not taking the subject, or if they were, had studied it previously.

Colleen hadn’t purchased the book, as text books were expensive, and a copy of the required texts for each course they were studying were available for them borrow, and would be handed out during the first class. Willa had of course bought all her text books at the bookstore, and one of them had been the trigonometry book, but Colleen couldn’t imagine a situation where Willa would allow her to look at it. She hoped the subject would make sense to her early on, as she didn’t wish to make an idiot of herself in front of the likes of Willa Belmore-Allen.

So engrossed in her thoughts, Colleen didn’t realize that Josie had spoken to her. She smiled, “I’m sorry, Josie. I missed what you said.”

Josie grinned back, “I was just curious to know what your plans are for after college? Sylvia and I spoke earlier and we are both hopin’ to get teachin’ jobs.”

Colleen took a breath, mentally preparing herself for their reactions. “My ma’s a doctor, and I plan on followin’ in her footsteps.”

Complete silence greeted this revelation. Five sets of eyes stared at her.

The first to recover, Sylvia said incredulously, “You want to be a lady doctor!” It was a familiar line; one Colleen had heard people utter on numerous occasions, both in regards to discovering her ma’s occupation, and when informed of her own future career choice.

“Yes,” she reaffirmed proudly. “I realize it’s an unusual choice of profession for a woman. But, I’ve seen firsthand what an excellent doctor my ma is, and how skilled and empathetic she is, and I want to be just like her. I’ve been helpin’ out in her clinic after school and on weekends for the past few years and I’ve grown to love medicine as much as Ma does, and I can’t imagine myself doin’ any other job. I will be applyin’ to medical school the year after next.”

Clearing her throat, Josie gazed enviously at Colleen. “Well I think it’s admirable.”

“Thank you. My ma says women can be anything they want to be.”

“But … don’t you wish to get married, and have a family one day?” Dora asked. Cora and Sylvia nodded in agreement.

“Of course I do.”

“Then why put all that work into becomin’ a doctor just to give it up once you marry?” Cora chimed in.

“I plan to continue workin’ after I get married. It’s not unheard of. More and more women are doin’ it.”

Cora shrugged, “I suppose so. But in my opinion a man likes to come home to find his wife waitin’.”

Colleen couldn’t help but think of Andrew, who had made his position on the subject perfectly clear, preferring a wife who stayed at home to cook and clean and bear his children. She had been disappointed to hear his words as she liked Andrew more than any boy or man she’d ever met but as much as she hated to admit it if he wasn’t on board with her choice to work as a physician, whilst raising a family, then he wasn’t the man for her.

“A man wouldn’t want to marry a woman who is smarter than him.” Dora announced, bringing Colleen back to reality. “What would people say?”

“So you think all men are smarter than women?” Josie challenged.

“Of course I don’t!” Dora argued. “But I would never say that to a man.”

“My ma says that if a man doesn’t respect a woman for who she is and the choices she makes then he’s not the right man for her. And I think she’s right,” Colleen quickly added, realizing that she’d referred to her ma’s opinion several times during the conversation and she wanted the others to know that she shared her ma’s views.

Dora still looked doubtful, but she made no further comment in regards to men. “Do you really think you can become a doctor?” she asked instead. “It’ll be a lot of work.”

Colleen nodded firmly, “I know I can.”

“Why shouldn’t women have it all?” Josie agreed, nodding her head firmly to demonstrate her point.

Willa had been surprisingly quiet thus far, not contributing anything to the conversation following Colleen’s unusual career choice announcement. Colleen would’ve thought she’d have been the first to make her opinion known. Curious, Colleen glanced her way, but Willa appeared to be staring off into space, deep in thought.

“I plan on workin’ as a librarian,” Cora informed them. “And Dora wants to be a secretary.”

Colleen nodded her approval, “They sound like good choices.”

“Colleen, I want you to swap rooms with me,” Willa suddenly announced, breaking her lengthy silence. “After all Josie stated earlier that she admires you, so I think the two of you would be most well-suited to share a room.”

Colleen gaped at her. Had Willa really just asked her to give up her room? Colleen’s eyes swept over the other girls, who were looking just as surprised and confused. “I’m sorry,” she stammered out. “But I’m not switchin’.

Willa’s blue eyes narrowed, “I would advise you to do as I say.”

Colleen bit her lip. The girl was intimidating to say the least, but Colleen was determined to remain confident, and not back down. “You’ve barely spoken two words to me all day, and now you just expect me to give up my room for you. You have some nerve.”

Dora spoke up, “Really, Willa. You have no right to ask that of Colleen,” she reprimanded.

Jumping to her feet, Willa took two steps in Dora’s direction. “How dare you speak to me like that!” she fumed.

Cora rushed to her cousin’s defense, “Willa, calm down. You are behavin’ most unreasonably.”

Turning slightly, Willa glared down at Cora.

Jumping in, Sylvia attempted to make peace, “I’ll switch.” She looked over at Josie for confirmation. “Josie and I have already become good friends.” Josie nodded her approval.

All eyes were on Willa as they waited with bated breath for her to respond.

“Well, it isn’t my first choice,” Willa swung around to deliberately look at Colleen, “but I suppose it will have to do. Thank you, Sylvia.” Her eyes slid briefly over to the girl, then to the cousins, before settling back on Colleen. “I apologize for speaking so harshly. I’m used to getting my own way.”

Colleen didn’t think she sounded particularly sincere. She sighed inwardly, noting the sympathetic expressions on the other girl’s faces. No one else appeared to care. Looking down at the ground, Colleen felt a lump forming in her throat. She suddenly felt very much alone. Was this the way it was going to be here? Willa was just allowed to behave and treat people however she liked and the other girls would instantly forgive her?

She looked up to find Willa still watching her, a smug expression on her face. Colleen met her stare full on, thinking that if this was the way Willa intended to behave then it was going to be a long two years!


	3. Chapter 3

_Friday, 4th August 1871_

Colleen threw down her pencil, causing it to roll across her desk and onto the floor. She covered her face with her hands. She was never going to pass trigonometry! She should be able to work out the cosine of an angle by now, but she just couldn’t get her head around the material. Determined to persevere, she bent down to retrieve her pencil, and proceeded to have another go at the formula.

It didn’t help that Colleen had been preoccupied with worry all week. Dr. Mike had been accused of malpractice when a baby in her care had died, and as a result a judge had suspended her medical license. Thankfully, her ma had telegrammed yesterday to say that her license had been reinstated, and the malpractice suit dismissed. A serious design fault in a line of baby bottles had been to blame. Colleen couldn’t even comprehend Dr. Mike being unable to practice medicine ever again! Even the mere thought of it had caused Colleen to cry herself to sleep several nights in a row.

The partly ajar door to her bedroom was flung open, and Willa strode into the room. She spotted Colleen hard at work, and raised her eyebrows, “Still studying? I finished my trigonometry schoolwork hours ago.”

Colleen gritted her teeth, choosing not to respond to the deliberate dig. She would’ve thought someone with Willa’s upbringing would’ve knocked politely and waited to be invited in before entering a private dwelling.

Walking over to the nightstand, Willa picked up Colleen’s photograph of the family, studying it critically. She looked over at Colleen, her smile smug, “Your brother sure is handsome!”

“Yes. He’s quite the eleven year-old heartbreaker back home!” she snapped, referring to Brian, even though she knew full well Willa was talking about Matthew. She turned back to her Math problem, “Now, if you don’t mind I have a lot of work to do.”

Instead of leaving, Willa produced several rectangular-shaped cards, from behind her back. “I thought you would be interested to know that my brother sent me four tickets to see the world famous singer, Gilda St. Clair, live tomorrow night, at the Lyric Opera House. Not that I would expect that you’ve heard of her,” she said, in a superior voice.

But Colleen did know the name. A few months ago she’d read a magazine article all about her. Her songs had been described as both poignant and haunting.

Willa was still speaking, “Obviously there are six of us, and only four tickets. I’ve already asked Josie and Sylvia to accompany me, and since Dora and Cora are joined at the hip, and couldn’t possibly go anywhere without the other, that leaves you Colleen.” She waved the ticket in the air.

 _So, she hasn’t made any other friends at college that she could ask?_ Colleen thought. She wasn’t surprised as during the classes they shared, Willa always sat alone, and Colleen hadn’t seen her interact with anyone.

As much as Colleen would have loved to hear Gilda St. Clair sing in person she knew that at this crucial stage in her college career her studies had to take precedence over anything else. “Thank you,” she said, politely. “I appreciate the offer, but I can’t go.”

To Colleen’s surprise, Willa actually looked disappointed. _She’s probably just upset that for once in her life she hasn’t gotten her own way!_ Colleen reflected nastily.

Josie and Sylvia choose that moment to dance into the room, their faces alive with excitement, “Isn’t it great, Colleen!” Josie jumped up-and-down on the spot, waving her hands in the air. “Gilda St. Clair.”

Sylvia flopped down on Colleen’s bed, “I’ve collected several pictures of Miss St. Clair from magazines and newspapers and she is exceptionally beautiful. In one of them she was sittin’ like this…” She sat up straight, trying to look as poised and confident as possible.

“And…” Josie’s eyes shone with excitement. “She has the most amazin’ gowns.”

“I actually own one of Miss St. Clair’s parasols,” Willa was quick to inform them. “I intend to carry it tomorrow night.”

Colleen shook her head in disbelief, watching as Josie and Sylvia gazed at Willa with equal parts envy and disappointment, privately thinking that a parasol would look ridiculous at an inside, night-time concert!

Noticing her gesture, Willa looked her way, “Colleen declined my thoughtful invitation,” she informed the others in a mock hurt tone.

Josie’s jaw dropped. She openly stared at Colleen, “What!”

“Oh, Colleen. How come?” Sylvia whined.

“I’m sorry, but I’m really struggling with trigonometry.” _As well as the rest of my classes,_ Colleen thought, but she didn’t dare say that.

“I’ll ask Dora or Cora to tutor you,” Josie offered. “They know all about trigonometry.”

“Thanks.” Colleen noticed that Willa didn’t volunteer her services.

“Oh please, do say you’ll come, Colleen!” Sylvia pleaded. “Hearin’ Gilda St. Clair in concert is a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

Josie and Sylvia both regarded her so expectantly, that Colleen felt she had no choice but to relent. She recalled her ma’s advice that she needed to make time for socializing. “Okay, I accept,” she agreed, not entirely happy with her decision. “But only if one of the cousins agrees to help me study tomorrow.”

The two girls squealed with happiness.

“You won’t regret it, Colleen.” Josie raced over to give her a hug. “Gilda St. Clair, can you believe it?”

~*~*~*~

“Do you think Miss St. Clair’s own personal line of merchandise will be available to purchase at the concert?” Josie asked the others. “I would dearly love to own one of her gorgeous hair ribbons.”

It was the next evening, and the four girls were crammed into the back of Mr. Baker’s carriage on their way to the Lyric Opera House.

“Of course it will be,” Willa informed her, scornfully. “Didn’t you read your ticket? At the bottom it clearly states that a display will be set up at the entrance to the opera house.

Colleen didn’t know how Willa thought Josie could have, as none of the girls had even seen the tickets up close; Willa had elected to keep them in her possession. Colleen knew that Josie and Sylvia in particular had been hoping she would hand them out, as they both would’ve liked to have saved them as a memento of the concert, but it appeared Willa wasn’t prepared to share.

“I’m afraid it’s gonna be a bit of a walk, ladies,” Mr. Baker said, exiting the carriage to assist the girls down.

“Thank goodness we had the foresight to arrive early,” Josie commented, as they began the long trek to the opera house.

Colleen and Sylvia nodded in agreement.

“I don’t know why my brother didn’t think to reserve a private parking space for me,” Willa frowned.

“The fresh air will do us good,” Colleen told her. “It will probably be pretty stuffy inside, what with all those people in close proximity.”

“Do you think so?” Sylvia looked worried. “I hope I don’t faint.”

In the distance, they could already see crowds of people milling around the front entrance. As they drew closer, the girls gazed around them. The men looked dashing in their expensive, tailored suits, while the women wore the latest fashions in a wide range of styles and an array of colors. Colleen was grateful to be wearing a gown sent to her by her Aunt Marjorie as a sixteenth birthday present. Earlier, when she had descended the stairs to the foyer, she had witnessed the wistful expression on Josie’s face. The clothes Josie and Sylvia wore were pretty, and they looked lovely, but their dresses didn’t compare to those worn by Colleen and Willa.

At the Gilda St. Clair merchandise stand, Josie selected a delicate, silk, pink ribbon, with the singer’s name sewn at one end. Colleen debated whether to buy some beautiful rose-scented soap, with the money her Grandmother had given her, but she had already used part of the money to buy a pair of high boots, so she thought she’d better save the rest for future school supplies. Her birthday was in two weeks and she thought she would probably receive money then, but just in case she didn’t Colleen didn’t want to waste her money.

As they passed through the double doors to the lobby, they were handed concert programs; the front cover engraved with fancy, embossed lettering, and an artistic sketch of Gilda St. Clair.

Josie clutched hers to her chest, “This is definitely goin’ in my keepsake album.”

At the entrance to the concert hall, Willa handed over their tickets, and the usher directed them to their seats.

“Oh, my,” Sylvia exclaimed, as they trailed the usher further and further down the carpeted aisle. “Are we near the front?”

“Didn’t I mention our seat numbers?” Willa said in mock innocence. “We are in the second row.”

Once seated, the girls removed their hats, as they were not permitted in the theatre since they blocked others view of the stage. Colleen angled her head upwards to admire the high domed ceiling, and the balconies circling above her. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Willa about to place the tickets back in her reticule.

“Willa?” she asked tentatively. “Would you mind terribly if we kept our tickets to remind us of this fantastic night that you have generously offered to share with us?” She hoped the extra compliment would do the trick.

Willa went still, and for a moment Colleen thought she was going to refuse her request. “Certainly,” she said, passing them over. “I should have thought of it myself.”

“Thanks, Willa,” Josie said, slipping the ticket inside her program.

The theatre quickly filled up. It was going to be a full house. Colleen looked toward the stage in anticipation. She couldn’t wait for the concert to start!

Eight o’clock arrived, and passed, with no sign of the touring star. By ten minutes past eight the audience were muttering in annoyance and confusion over the delay, and fidgeting in their seats.

Josie looked down the row to regard Colleen quizzically, “I wonder what the holdup is?”

“Do you think Miss St. Clair’s not gonna sing?” Sylvia sighed, her face etched with disappointment.

Colleen glanced at Willa, who looked just as upset as Josie and Sylvia. Colleen felt the same way, ever since she had made the decision to attend Gilda’s St. Clair’s concert, she’d been looking forward to it.

At 8:15pm a man wearing an expensive suit, and a bowler hat strode out onto the platform from stage right, his face flustered and drawn. Stopping in the center of the stage he held up his hands for silence. The crowd instantly complied eager for the concert to begin.

“I’m Max Henderson, Miss St. Clair’s Manager. I’m afraid the singer is feeling poorly. Is there a doctor in the house?” he inquired urgently. Following his announcement a collective gasp swept through the crowd as people looked at each other in shock and disbelief.

Willa leaned in Colleen’s direction. ‘Didn’t you say you wanted to be a doctor!” she hissed, smiling triumphantly. “Now’s your chance.”

“Do you think I should?” Colleen asked, doubtfully. “I’m not an actual doctor, yet.”

Sylvia’s eyes flew around the room, “Oh no, It looks like there isn’t a doctor here tonight.”

“Colleen, you’re Miss St. Clair’s only hope!” Josie said, dramatically.

Colleen stood, “I volunteer to see to Miss St. Clair,” she said, speaking in a slow, confident manner.

Willa gaped openly, while Josie and Sylvia smiled encouragingly. Silence fell over the room, and Colleen could feel all eyes upon her.

“Are you a certified medical profession?” Max Henderson asked his voice incredulous.

Colleen shook her head, “No Sir. But I have assisted in a physician’s clinic for the past four years.”

Nodding, the Manager indicated that Colleen should join him on stage.

Colleen cautiously made her way down the row, trying her best not to step on any hats, or purses, or trip over anyone’s feet. An usher was waiting in the aisle to escort her onto the stage

“Why she’s no more than a child!” a man in the crowd loudly announced. Colleen kept her eyes on her destination as she walked behind the usher, but she could feel her face growing hot with embarrassment.

“We believe in you, Colleen,” Josie called out.

“Follow me,” Gilda St. Clair’s Manager instructed when Colleen reached his side.

Exiting the stage they proceeded down a passageway, stopping at the fourth door on the left marked ‘dressing room’.

Mr. Henderson knocked lightly on the door.

“Enter,” Colleen heard a voice rasp from inside.

Sighing, Colleen looked down at the reticule she carried, wishing it was the carpetbag she kept her collection of medical supplies in.

Opening the door, Mr. Henderson gestured for her to go ahead of him. Gilda St. Clair sat at her dressing table wearing a lovely lemon gown, trimmed with delicate white lace. Her hair was elaborately styled in perfect tubular curls, adorned with ribbons, and finished off with a matching lemon hat. The photographs Colleen had seen of her didn’t do her justice; she was even more beautiful in person!

The singer regarded Colleen with surprise, turning to look at her manager questionably.

“There wasn’t a doctor in the audience,” Mr. Henderson apologized. “But this young lady assures me that she’s qualified to assist.”

Colleen stepped forward, smiling nervously. She hoped she would be able to help and that she wouldn’t make a fool of herself in front of Gilda St. Clair. “What seems to be the problem, Miss St. Clair?”

The beautiful woman clutched at her neck. “It’s my throat,” she said, in a scratchy voice. “Just before curtain I experienced a shooting pain, starting at my heart, moving up through my throat, all the way to my ears. I can barely talk, and there’s no way I will be able to sing.”

Colleen moved closer, “Have you experienced this kind of pain before?”

There was a moment of hesitation before Miss St. Clair shook her head.

Max Henderson jumped in, “She was fine half an hour ago. Then she mentioned her throat felt dry, and minutes later she started coughing, and was unable to stop. I gave her some water, but it did nothing.”

Colleen suspected that Miss St. Clair had simply overdone it, and strained her voice. She cast her mind back through Dr. Mike’s various treatment options, hearing her ma’s voice in her head, as if she were here with her, encouraging her. The Indian remedy of Willow Bark Tea was Colleen’s initial thought, as she had seen her ma use it successfully to treat sore throats on many occasions, but she hadn’t yet been able to locate any Willow trees in Denver.

“I think the amount of singin’ you’ve been doin’ lately has caused your throat muscles to become irritated and sore. I recommend a hot salt water gargle to reduce swellin’ and relieve discomfit.”

Gilda looked skeptical, “Salt and water! _That’s_ , it! Will it take effect straight away?” she asked anxiously. “Will I be able to go on?”

“I’m not sure,” Colleen admitted. “I hope so. Let’s see if it helps first.”

Gilda’s Manager headed to the Opera House kitchen to track down salt and heat water. He returned minutes later with a jug of water, a tin mug, and a sack of salt. Pouring warm water into the mug, Colleen picked up the salt. She wasn’t entirely sure how much to add, so she started with a small amount, stirring the mixture until the salt had completely dissolved.

Colleen handed the salty mixture to the singer. “Gargle for about 10-20 seconds, bein’ careful not to swallow any of the water.”

Colleen and Max both watched with bated breath, as Gilda gargled, spitting the water into the bowl atop the washstand.

After several gargles, Gilda St. Clair, cleared her throat, and opened her mouth to gingerly test her voice.

“It feels a lot better already,” she breathed, thrilled upon hearing that her speech sounded normal.

She opened her mouth and sang a few notes. It sounded incredible, sending shivers up and down Colleen’s spine.

Gilda clapped her hands in delight, while Max Henderson gave a sigh of relief.

Turning, Gilda smiled warmly at Colleen. “How can I ever thank you? I didn’t even ask your name?”

Colleen beamed with pride. “It’s Colleen. Colleen Cooper.”

Hovering nearby, Max asked, “Gilda, do you intend to perform?”

Gilda waved her hands in the air. “Of course, of course! I couldn’t possibly disappoint my many fans.”

Nodding, Max left the room, to speak to the Opera House Manager, and inform the audience.

“You’ll need to take a break in an hour for another salt water gargle,” Colleen instructed.

“That will work out fine. Intermission’s around that time anyway.” Sweeping forward, she clasped Colleen’s hand. “I would like to ask you to return backstage in an hour to assist, as well as after the show. I wouldn’t want to prepare the salt to water ratio incorrectly. Max will arrange an all access backstage pass for you, so that you can come and go as you please.”

Colleen hesitated, “I’d be happy to, but my friends–“

“Are welcome as well,” Gilda smiled, turning away to examine her hair in the dressing table mirror, with a critical frown. She needn’t have been concerned. It still looked perfect – not a hair out of place.

Colleen tried again, “My friends and I are expected back right after the concert. Mrs. Phelps, the woman who runs our boardin’ house has a strict curfew in place.”

“Max will accompany you home – explain the situation.” Her smile widened, “I’m sure this Mrs. Phelps will be very proud of your prompt action tonight!”

Colleen blushed, looking down at the floor.

Max poked his head around the door. “I hate to rush you, Gilda,” he apologized. “But the crowd is going crazy. Miss Cooper, an usher is waiting to see you back to your seat”

Colleen hurried to comply, while Gilda took one last look in the mirror.

Hand on the door knob, Colleen turned back, “Miss St. Clair, promise me you’ll rest your voice between now and tomorrow night, and speak only when absolutely necessary!”

Gilda regarded Colleen with a mixture of warmth and affection. “I promise. And please, call me Gilda.”

Nodding happily, Colleen located the usher, and practically skipped back to her seat.


	4. Chapter 4

_Saturday, 5th August 1871_

Colleen walked around to the back entrance of the Lyric Opera House, displaying her pass to the venue employee who guarded the door. Last night, following the concert, Gilda St. Clair had invited Colleen to attend the Saturday, and Sunday night shows to administer the salt water gargle.

Returning to her seat the previous night, the girls had bombarded her with questions. Josie and Sylvia had squealed with delight when Colleen had shared the news that the four of them were allowed backstage following the concert, and that they would be meeting Gilda St. Clair in person. Even Willa had briefly looked happy.

Max Henderson had done a fantastic job of sweet-talking Mrs. Phelps when they arrived home after curfew. Colleen smiled to herself, Mrs. Phelps had even arranged for Miss Swanson to bake a cake, and a special afternoon tea had been held in her honor, where the Boarding House Owner had gushed over how Colleen had ‘cured’ Gilda St. Clair. Heading to Gilda’s dressing room, Colleen frowned as a thought occurred to her. She had meant to write to Dr. Mike to inform her of the exciting events of last night, but with all the attention she had received it had slipped her mind. Colleen promised herself she would write home first thing in the morning, and post the letter on her way to class on Monday.

Reaching the dressing room, Colleen knocked, waiting for Gilda to invite her inside.

The door opened, and Max Henderson smiled at her, “Good evening, Miss Cooper.”

“Colleen,” Gilda gushed. “You’re here.”

“Hi, Miss St. Clair, I mean Gilda,” she amended seeing the reproachful look cross Gilda’s face.

“How’s your throat today?”

“Much improved. Your salt water gargle has worked wonders.”

“I’ll leave you ladies to your conversation,” Max said, making a hasty exit.

Gliding across the room, the singer gave Colleen a quick hug. “I have a surprise for you,” she said, taking Colleen’s hand, and leading her across the room. They stopped in front of the free-standing wardrobe that housed Gilda’s multiple gowns. Perusing the contents, Gilda eventually pushed two hangers aside, and reached for a pale blue dress, holding it up for Colleen to see.

“It’s so lovely,” Colleen admired. “Is that the dress you’re plannin’ on wearin’ for tonight’s concert?”

Smiling, Gilda shook her head, “I want you to have it, Colleen. As a thank you for all you did last night.”

“Oh I couldn’t possibly. It’s way too expensive.”

“I insist,” Gilda’s eyes twinkled, as she thrust the dress at Colleen. “I only ever wear a gown once. And, I wore this one six months ago, to a charity dinner in New York City.”

Colleen ran a hand along the soft material, admiring the white lace that decorated the neckline, bodice and sleeves. “Thank you, Gilda. I love it.” She couldn’t believe she now owned a dress previously worn by such a glamorous and renowned woman.

Gilda walked to a chest of drawers, and began rummaging through the top one, “And…” she said, producing a pair of silk gloves, the same pale shade as the dress, “an outfit just wouldn’t be complete without gloves. “I won’t accept no for an answer,” she said, when Colleen opened her mouth to protest.

Gilda paused in the middle of the room, deep in thought. “Hmm, I can’t quite remember what hat I wore with that dress!”

“Gilda, you’ve already given me too much!” Colleen tried to say.

“Nonsense, you deserve it. Max would have been forced to cancel the concert, and refund the money, if you hadn’t of spoken up last night. It’s the least I can do.”

“Ah-ha,” Gilda selected a dark blue hat from the high shelf next to the wardrobe. “This one will do nicely I think.”

Colleen touched the blue floral trim, “It’s so sophisticated. I’ve always wanted a hat like this.”

“I have the perfect hairstyle to compliment that hat. Come by early tomorrow and I’ll teach it to you. It’s how I wore my hair when I met Allan Pinkerton.”

Colleen did a double take, “Allan Pinkerton, the detective?”

Gilda nodded, “I met him recently, when I was on tour in Chicago. He offered to set up private security for me, at no charge.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Allan has a bit of a reputation for being a ruthless man, but I found him to be quite charming.”

“You’ve traveled to so many excitin’ places,” Colleen said, enviously. “Where are you tourin’ next?”

“I believe it’s a little place not far from here called Colorado Springs.”

Colleen gasped. “I’m from Colorado Springs. My family lives there.”

Gilda tipped her head to the side in surprise, “Well … isn’t that just wonderful!”

“Who arranged your visit? Was it our mayor – Jake Slicker?”

“I’m just dreadful at remembering names. All I know is that he’s been corresponding with Max for months, insistent on booking a concert in his town, and that he wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Based on that, Colleen concluded that it must be Preston, not Jake.

“What date are you leavin’ for Colorado Springs?” she asked.

“We depart on the eleventh day of the month.”

It was a date Colleen was definitely familiar with, since it was her birthday, “I’m actually headin’ home next Friday as well.”

“This is marvelous. Whenever I travel I insist on my own car, and I would be delighted if you would join me, keep me company on the long journey. Max is such a bore to travel with; he always has his head buried in paperwork!”

Colleen was too excited over the thought of traveling in a private train car with a touring star to even think about refusing. She couldn’t wait to share this latest development with the other girls.

“I’ll show you all the sights,” Colleen said happily. “Colorado Springs is a beautiful spot and so peaceful. You can relax in the hot springs, and walk in the meadow. And I’ll show you the family homestead that my pa built, and give you a tour of my ma’s clinic. I would also like to suggest that Ma looks at your throat, just to check that everythin’s okay. She’s the best doctor in the world!”

“Well,” Gilda smiled. “How can I say no to that?”

Colleen decided not to write and tell her ma about Gilda St. Clair after all, since they would be meeting in person, next Friday!

~*~*~*~

_Wednesday, August 16th 1871_

Colleen gazed at her new trunk with pride, running her fingers over the initials ‘CC’ burned into the wooden strip on the front by Robert E. She had just arrived back having seen Gilda St. Clair off on the train that morning. Opening the trunk lid, to begin unpacking, Colleen breathed in the pleasant smell of newly oiled wood.

She was in the process of unfolding the dress Gilda had gifted her the week before, when she heard a knock on her door. Without waiting for her response, the door was thrown open, and Josie, Sylvia, and Dora filed into the room, with Willa dragging her feet behind them.

Before Colleen could open her mouth to greet them, they began firing questions at her, talking excitedly over the top of one another.

“Colleen, you’re back!” Sylvia exclaimed.

“How was your birthday?” Josie asked.

“We were worried when you didn’t arrive on Sunday night. Your ma’s telegram didn’t tell us much; just that due to circumstances beyond your control you were unable to return until Wednesday evenin’.” That came from Dora.

Colleen looked around, “Where’s Cora?” This was the first time she’d ever seen Dora without her cousin.

“Restin’,” Dora said. “She’s come down with a mild catarrh.”

Colleen was sorry to hear that. “I’ll go up and see her shortly,” she promised. “What do you think of my new trunk?”

Josie, Sylvia, and Dora surrounded the chest, delightedly taking in the beautifully constructed wood and leather exterior, the monogrammed initials, and the soft lining sewn into the interior.

“My pa, and my brother Matthew, built it,” Colleen stated, proudly.

“My trunk was crafted by a man whose work is recognized all over the world,” Willa said smugly, from her position, perched on the edge of Colleen’s desk chair. But Colleen could tell by the way she was gazing at the trunk that she was secretly impressed with the expert craftsmanship.

Josie played with the top tray. “This one’s much nicer,” she said, without thinking.

Seeing the annoyed look on Willa’s face, Colleen quickly lowered her head to hide a grin.

“And my brother’s girlfriend, Emma, made this dress.” Colleen indicated to the black velvet dress she was currently wearing.

“Black! Isn’t that a little morbid?” This observation came from Willa, of course.

“Gilda didn’t think so!” Colleen racked her brain searching for the word Gilda had referred to it as. “She called it soigné. In fact … she loved it so much that the next day she asked Emma to make her a gown for the Colorado Springs concert.” She decided not to mention the necklace Gilda had given her for her seventeenth birthday. It really hadn’t been her style, and besides she’d left it at home.

The girls were hanging on to Colleen’s every word, wide-eyed and thrilled.

“Speakin’ of Miss St. Clair? How did her concert go? Was she impressed by your town?” Josie asked.

“The concert was goin’ well. Everybody loved her…” Colleen paused. “I was so happy for her, but just after she stopped singin’ she collapsed on stage.”

Dora yelped in shock, and Josie let out a squeal.

Sylvia grabbed Colleen’s arm, “What happened?”

“Dr. Mike diagnosed her with polyp of the throat!” Colleen continued, dramatically.

Josie, Sylvia, and Dora looked at her blankly.

“It’s a flap of skin blocking the windpipe,” Willa supplied. “The windpipe runs from the neck to the chest!” This explanation was directed at Josie, Sylvia, and Dora.

Sylvia looked a little queasy at the mention of loose skin.

Colleen looked over at Willa in surprise.

Willa raised her eyebrows, “What? You think you are the only person that knows medical things?”

Colleen continued to stare at her, “Willa is correct. Ma had to perform an emergency operation, which I assisted on, to remove the skin growth.”

“So you didn’t cure her with your salt water concoction?” Willa smiled in triumph.

Tired of her jibes, Colleen rounded on Willa, “Gilda didn’t tell me the entire truth regardin’ her symptoms. The first night we met she told me that that was the first time she had experienced problems with her throat, but that turned out not to be the case. She cancelled two concerts in Chicago last month, due to what we now know was the polyp.”

“So … Miss St. Clair is okay?” Sylvia asked urgently, trying to distract Colleen’s and Willa’s attention.

Colleen nodded. “She left for San Francisco this mornin’ to rest and recuperate. It’ll be a year before she’s able to perform again.” She looked at the others shyly. “She invited me to travel with her, as a companion, to answer correspondence, and advise her on her wardrobe.”

The girls reacted strongly to this development. Willa looked incredulous, while Josie, Sylvia, and Dora stared at her with dazed looks on their faces.

“And you didn’t go with her?” Josie exclaimed.

“I expect Miss St. Clair rescinded her offer followin’ the surgery?” Willa interjected.

“No, she didn’t,” Colleen informed her firmly. “I declined to go with her. My place is here. I’m now more sure than I’ve ever been that I’m makin’ the right choice to become a doctor.”

“Colleen, why must you pass judgment on every little comment I make,” Willa snapped. “Especially given that I went to the trouble of slipping a piece of carbon paper beneath my own notes so you would have a copy for the three days of classes you missed!” *

It took Colleen a moment to process Willa’s unexpected bout of generosity. “Thank you,” she said, sincerely. “That was thoughtful of you to think of me.”

~*~*~*~

* For those who are too young to remember, Carbon Paper (invented around 1806) is paper soaked in ink, before being coated in wax. The sheet is then placed over a sheet of paper under a sheet of tissue paper. This way, a person can write on the top sheet, and produce an identical copy on the bottom sheet. Works with ink-based products, such as pens and typewriter ribbons.


	5. Chapter 5

_Monday, October 9th 1871_

It had been a busy couple of months for Colleen. Her professors had been piling on the assignments and Colleen had been working hard to keep up, turn her essays in on time, and strive for the highest marks possible. She was doing a lot better in trigonometry, going from a C to a B average, and her grade was still climbing.

Even thought school had been taking up the majority of her time, she had managed to squeeze in two visits home – one for Katie’s Christening in September, and another just last week for the Sweethearts Dance. *

Katie had looked adorable in her long, white, satin Christening gown, and Colleen had been thrilled over Dr. Mike and Sully’s choice of Godparents. Over the last few years she had often felt like Robert E. and Grace were second parents to her, and she knew her brothers felt the same way. Her recent seventeenth birthday was a good example of their kindness and generosity, Robert E. had carved the initials into her trunk, and Grace had baked her favorite cake – chocolate with raspberry filling!

Her trip home for the Sweethearts Dance had been somewhat of a train wreck as far as her relationship with Andrew was concerned. She wished she knew where she stood with him, and whether he was interested in her or not. On top of that she’d made a real fool of herself in front of Andrew, joining him for breakfast when he’d already made plans with Becky, and worse still inviting Becky to join them, when it was Colleen who had been the one intruding.

More bad news had come in the form of Emma announcing she was leaving Colorado Springs to travel with Gilda St. Clair, as her dressmaker. Colleen felt so bad for Matthew, as he’d been a lot happier since Emma had entered his life, and Colleen prayed he wouldn’t have a relapse, and revert back to the angry, destructive man he had become following Ingrid’s death. Also a small part of her was upset that Gilda had been able to replace her so easily, and appeared to have forgotten they were ever friends. Colleen had written to Gilda in San Francisco, disappointed when the reply she received was both short and formal. Deep down though, Colleen knew that Emma, as an accomplished seamstress, was more suited to be Gilda’s travel companion, and she wished Emma and Gilda the best.

There had been some high points though. Her friendship with Becky was just as strong as ever. Colleen could definitely picture them as two elderly ladies, sitting in porch rockers, surrounded by grandchildren. The other good news was that Sully had received a job opportunity to survey a proposed National park, meaning Sully, Dr. Mike, Brian, and Katie would’ve had to move to Wyoming, but luckily Sully had decided not to accept the offer. Colleen had been so relieved; it was hard enough that her family lived three hours away, let alone thousands of miles.

It was a beautiful fall afternoon as Colleen hurried to the café near campus to meet her friends. She had just come from her last class of the day – history. A young man was just exiting the café as Colleen approached, and with a touch of his hat he held the door open for her to enter. Thanking him, Colleen scanned the tables, spotting Willa and Josie sitting in the corner, schoolwork spread out in front of them.

Heading in their direction Colleen narrowly avoided colliding with two young girls, carrying glass bowls piled high with ice cream. The café had recently set up an ice cream bar next to the counter.

Giggling, the children skipped around her.

Sylvia looked up from her schoolwork, “Hi Colleen”.

“Where’s Sylvia?” Colleen asked, hanging her bag on the back of the chair, and sitting down. “I thought she would have beaten me for sure. The music hall is closer than history class!”

“She had to stop by the bookstore,” Josie said, taking a sip of coffee.

The waitress came over with the coffee pot, pouring the dark liquid into Colleen’s mug. Adding milk and sugar, Colleen took a grateful sip.

Heads down, concentrating on their separate school assignments, it took them a moment to realize that Sylvia had joined them, and was standing next to Josie, clutching a newspaper.

The first to look up, Colleen instantly took in the horrified expression on Sylvia’s face. “Sylvia, what’s wrong?” she asked, her voice etched with concern.

Colleen’s alarmed tone drew the attention of both Willa and Josie. “Has something happened?” Willa frowned.

Her eyes filling with tears, Sylvia opened her mouth to speak, but then shook her head unable to continue.

Grabbing Sylvia’s hand, Josie pulled her down into the empty seat next to her. “Sylvia, you’re scarin’ me.”

By way of explanation, Sylvia thrust the newspaper in Colleen’s direction. Willa shifted closer, so she could see as well, while Colleen unfolded what she soon noticed was a copy of that morning’s Denver Post.

Scanning the front page, headlines; Colleen’s eyes widened in shock and disbelief. Her face grim, Willa looked just as upset and anxious.

Still in the dark, Josie’s pale blue eyes darted from one to the other. “Could someone please tell me what it says?” she pleaded.

With a quick glance at Willa, Colleen opened her mouth to relay the news, speaking as gently as possible. “I hate to have to tell you this Josie, but there’s a major fire in Chicago. It started last night and it’s been burnin’ out of control ever since, and so far firefighters have been unable to put it out.” **

Josie shook her head mutely as comprehension dawned, “But … but that’s where…” she looked over at Sylvia, who hadn’t moved a muscle, “our families live. Does it say what part of Chicago?”

Colleen’s chin trembled. “It says everywhere. I’m very sorry.”

“I’m sure your families are safe,” Willa chimed in.

“That right,” Colleen rushed to reassure. “I bet they had plenty of warnin’.”

Willa jumped to her feet, “Mr. Baker will have picked up the mail by now. I expect there are telegrams waiting for you. Let’s go and check.”

Smiling encouragingly, Colleen nodded in agreement. This revelation calmed Josie and Sylvia a little, and the four students quickly gathered up their things, and raced as fast as possible to the boarding house.

Filing into the foyer, they spied the mail, piled neatly on the table next to the door. Josie was the first to reach it, and she began a frantic search, throwing envelopes aside to land on the table and floor.

“There’s nothin’ here,” she cried loudly, reaching the bottom. “They would’ve telegrammed if they were okay.”

Colleen attempted to calm the girls down, as Sylvia burst into noisy tears behind her. “The more I think about it, the fact that there’s nothin’ from either of your families is a positive sign…”

Josie stared at her, “What do you mean? No it’s not!”

“It’s more likely that communications are down,” Willa interjected. “All businesses, including post offices, are likely closed in the areas your families live if the fire’s as bad as the newspaper says.”

Colleen nodded, “Exactly.”

“But that doesn’t mean they’re alive!” Josie shouted. “They could just as easily be dea … hurt, and the news isn’t able to reach us.”

“I thought I heard you girls!” Mrs. Phelps shuffled in from the dining room. “Colleen, did you see the telegram Mr. Baker left for you? It’s…” She stopped speaking, her eyes instantly narrowing as she spotted the mail littering the floor. “Look at this mess! Who did this?” she demanded to know.

“Mrs. Phelps, have you seen this morning’s paper?” Willa rushed to explain. “There’s a fire…”

“I’ve been far too busy to read the newspaper!” Mrs. Phelps interrupted. “I want the mail tidied immediately. I am very disappointed in you girls.” For the first time she noticed Sylvia’s tears. “At least Miss Coleman appears to feel guilt over the mess!”

“Mrs. Phelps, would you shut up about the mail!” Willa snapped, causing the boarding house matron’s mouth to gape open in shock. “I’m trying to tell you that there’s a fire in Chicago. It started last night, and we haven’t heard anything from Josie and Sylvia’s families.” She handed the woman the Denver Post.

Mrs. Phelps read quickly, “Oh girls, I’m so sorry. “ She rushed forward, putting an arm around each girl. “Everythin’s goin’ to be okay.” She looked over Sylvia’s head. “Willa, would you inform Miss Swanson that we require a fresh pot of tea to be brought to the parlor?” she said, as she led the distraught girls in that direction.

Without protest, Willa left to do as she requested.

Colleen hovered in the foyer, feeling helpless. She suddenly recalled Mrs. Phelps mentioning something about a telegram for her. Bending down she sifted through the mail. Her heart caught in her throat as she realized the envelope was marked urgent. Tearing it open, she fumbled to unfold the message.

A moment later, she stumbled backwards, unable to believe what she was reading!

“Colleen!” Willa stood frozen in the dining room doorway, having just returned from the kitchen. “Is there a telegram after all? Did Josie miss a piece of mail?”

Shaking her head, Colleen covered her face with her hands. “It’s my brother, Matthew. He’s been shot!”

~*~*~*~

* I know Colleen wasn’t in the episode ‘Los Americanos’, but I doubt she’d miss such a major milestone as Katie’s Christening, so I figure she was there, but that it just wasn’t shown on screen. Also, there are several DQ promotional photos featuring the family at Katie’s Christening, that Colleen is in, wearing the black dress that Emma made for her in ‘All that Glitters’.

** The Chicago Fire of 1871, which burned for two days in October, killed an estimated 300 people, left 100,000 homeless, and destroyed much of the city.


	6. Chapter 6

_Tuesday, October 10th 1871_

The Chicago fire was finally out! The blaze had rampaged the city for two days, before rain had finally fallen, extinguishing the flames.

The six girls had spent a sleepless night discussing the fire, Josie and Sylvia’s families and Matthew’s shooting. The telegram from Sully had said Matthew had been shot in the shoulder by bank robbers, Dr. Mike and Andrew had operated, he had come through the operation, and that her ma was confident that he would be fine. It also said that Matthew had relayed that he was okay, and for Colleen to stay in school, and make him proud. Colleen had gone all teary-eyed when she’d read that part. She had been so torn over whether to ignore Matthew’s request and head home anyway, but ultimately had decided that the situation with Josie and Sylvia was more critical and that they needed her support more. She had replied to Sully’s telegram asking that he give Matthew her love, and explained what was happening here in Denver with her friends.

First thing this morning, a telegram had finally arrived from Sylvia’s pa to say that her family was safe, and had taken refuge at their local church. Sylvia’s Pa had broken the sad news that the family home was no longer, as the fire had completely destroyed all the homes in that area, but Sylvia had been so relieved that her family were okay, that the news of her house had barely registered. Unfortunately they were still waiting to hear from Josie’s family, and as more time passed without word, the more anxious and doubtful they were all becoming.

Just before lunch, saw Colleen standing in the foyer of the boarding house, frowning down at the latest telegram, this time from her ma. She couldn’t believe that Matthew had risked further injury, and slowed down his recovery time by going after the bank robbers! It reminded Colleen too much of the way Matthew had behaved after Ingrid’s death, putting his live in unnecessary danger. Couldn’t Matthew just have left it up to the visiting Marshall, Elias Burch! A part of Colleen understood Matthew’s need to prove himself as Sheriff; she knew half the town had voted against him in the Sheriff elections, and that he was constantly battling for the townsfolk to accept him, but still, it wasn’t worth dying over!

Willa came in the front door, overloaded with books from her morning classes. “How’s your brother?” she asked, waving her hand at the telegram in Colleen’s hands.

“He’s doin’ better.” She stuffed the piece of paper back in its envelope, “He’s just stubborn is all. Ain’t restin’ like he should be!”

Willa nodded, “I suppose there’s no point in asking whether there was any mail for Josie, as I’m sure you would’ve rushed upstairs with the news!”

Colleen sighed, “No, nothin’. But I’m gonna stop by the post office after class this afternoon.” Last night, Colleen and Willa had talked it over with Mrs. Phelps and Mr. Baker and decided to check in at the post office several times a day, until they heard from both families. Now they were just waiting on news regarding Josie’s.

“Oh, Willa, I almost forgot.” Leaning over, Colleen retrieved an envelope from atop the mail pile. “This telegram arrived for you.”

Willa made quick work of opening it, reading quickly. “My parents are hosting a charity dinner, this Saturday night, to raise money for victims of the fire.”

“That’s kind of them,” Colleen approved. “Do they know Josie and Sylvia are from Chicago?”

Willa stared down at her hands, “No, they’ve never asked, or even know the names of any of my friends here.”

Colleen wasn’t sure what to say to that. “I’m sorry,” she ventured.

Nodding, Willa studied the floor.

Colleen was still coming to grips over how much Willa’s attitude had changed in the past twenty-four hours. Since receiving news of the fire, and then Matthew’s injury, Willa had stayed up all night offering words of support and reassurance, fetching cups of tea and clean handkerchiefs, and along with Colleen, volunteering to check for mail at the post office until they received word. Colleen thought they made a good team, and she much preferred this side to Willa!

Nodding, Willa gestured in the direction of the dining room, “We should get something to eat!”

Colleen shook her head, “I’m not hungry.”

“Me neither. But it gives me something to do to help pass the time.”

Colleen nodded in agreement, and the two girls headed for the dining room.

Dora and Cora looked up from their bowls of vegetable soup, as Colleen and Willa entered the room, and took their places at the table.

Cora put down her spoon, “Any news on your brother’s recovery?”

Colleen ladled some soup into a bowl from the tureen in the center of the table and handed it to Willa. After serving herself she outlined the contents of the latest telegram.

“He may be my older brother…” Colleen finished. “but he’s definitely gonna be receivin’ a piece of my mind when I go home for Thanksgivin’, for leavin’ the clinic the night after he was shot, and goin’ after that gang the way he did.”

“But he caught them!” Willa exclaimed, stirring her spoon around her soup bowl.

“I know, but that ain’t the point!” Colleen ventured a tiny sip of soup. It was delicious but she just wasn’t hungry. She looked over at Dora and Cora, “Have you seen Josie and Sylvia since you’ve been home?” Even though Sylvia had received word from her family she had opted to stay home from class to support Josie.

Dora looked up from buttering a piece of bread, “We took ‘em up some soup and bread when we arrived home.”

“I can’t believe there’s still no news,” Colleen sighed. “I felt sure we would’ve heard somethin’ by now.”

“It will be complete chaos there, don’t forget!” Dora reminded. “It could be days yet, before we hear anythin’.”

Colleen pushed her untouched soup bowl away, giving up on the pretence of eating.

~*~*~*~

Colleen waited impatiently in line at the post office, for the woman in front of her to finish at the counter. She was posting a package, and seemed reluctant to part with it, as she had read about several recent train robberies between Colorado and Texas. After several assurances from the man behind the counter that her package was in safe hands, due to a recent increase in security, the woman finally left, and letting out a sigh of relief, Colleen stepped up to the counter.

“Good afternoon,” Colleen greeted. “I’m here to pick up the mail for the Phelps Boardin’ House, 155 Downin’ Street.”

“Right away, miss.” Behind the counter wooden cubby holes ran the length of the entire back wall, extending almost to the ceiling. The postal worker had to ascend a step ladder to access the Downing Street boxes. Retrieving the mail he returned to the counter. Colleen’s heartbeat escalated as she noticed he was carrying a single brown envelope.

“Just one telegram,” he stated, handing it across.

“Thank you,” Colleen said distractedly, her breath catching in her throat upon realizing that it was addressed to ‘Josie Duvall’.

Walking fast, Colleen raced for the boarding house, praying that the telegram contained good news. Barging in the front door, she hurriedly climbed the two sets of stairs to the attic bedroom Josie and Sylvia shared.

Josie and Sylvia both looked up with a start upon hearing Colleen fling open the door to their room, without knocking.

Out of breath, Colleen threw herself across the room, holding out the envelope for Josie.

Staring at it for a beat, Josie cautiously reached out and took it, turning it over. Sylvia moved to Colleen’s side and they both watched with bated breath as Josie ripped open the seal, and slid out the sheet of white paper.

Her face anxious, Josie began to read. After several seconds, she looked up at Colleen and Sylvia, her face spreading into a wide smile.

“They’re okay,” she said, her eyes alive with relief. “They’re stayin’ with my aunt, whose house remained out of the fire range. Not sure about our homestead. They think it made it through, but they are not allowed to return to that area yet. Willa was right; they couldn’t get word to me, as the post offices were all closed.” She let out a chuckle. “My pa’s not happy, as there’s an alcohol ban on permittin’ saloons from servin’ alcohol, and after all the excitement of the past few days, my father’s dyin’ for a whiskey.”

Colleen and Sylvia rushed forward to give Josie a hug, thrilled for their friend.

“I’m so relieved for you,” Colleen smiled, as they embraced. “It sounds like your pa’s in fine spirits.”

Josie’s face shone with happiness. “I’m starvin’,” she suddenly announced. “I haven’t eaten anythin’ since lunchtime yesterday.”

“I think this kind of news definitely deserves celebratin’,” Colleen grinned. “I vote we all go out and get some ice cream.”

Eyes sparkling with excitement, Josie and Sylvia both nodded enthusiastically, practically dancing around the room, rustling up shawls, gloves and hats.

The trio raced for the door, coming to a stop, as they encountered Willa, planted in the doorway, arms folded across her chest.

“I was just about to come and find you,” Colleen smiled. “We just heard, Josie’s family is safe.”

“I heard,” Willa said flatly.

Colleen’s smile faded, unsure why Willa sounded so cold. She tried again, “We thought we’d all go out and celebrate, treat ourselves to ice cream.”

“No thank you, Colleen. Being forced to spend the past twenty-four hours comforting the three of you has meant that I am now behind in my studies, therefore I do not have time to socialize.” With that, she pivoted on her heel, her footfalls fading away as she descended the wooden stairs.

The three girls stared at each other speechless.

Sylvia threw up her arms, “What just happened?”

“Is she upset with us?” Josie whispered anxiously, as they started down the attic stairs.

“Don’t worry about her,” Colleen fumed. _What was Willa’s problem! Did she think Colleen should’ve told her about the telegram first, before informing Josie! That was just plain crazy!_

She sighed, annoyed, but mostly just disappointed!


	7. Chapter 7

**For this chapter, my thanks go out to Laura (bratling13) for answering my footwear questions, via PM, over at Grace’s Cafe. :-)**

_Wednesday, November 22nd 1871_

The day before Thanksgiving Matthew Cooper rang the doorbell of his younger sister’s boarding house, hearing the bell chime inside the house. He had telegrammed Colleen earlier in the day to say he was coming to Denver today and that she’d better be ready to catch the train home with him first thing tomorrow. It was late afternoon, and after depositing the fugitive, Charlie Piper, at the Denver jail, and dropping his bag off at a local boarding house, Matthew had come straight here.

Matthew admired the neat and tidy front garden, and the porch swing with approval. This was the first time he had visited his sister in Denver, and he was pleased to note that so far the place she was living at met his criteria.

A no-nonsense, middle-aged woman answered the door, eying him suspiciously, “Yes. May I help you?”

Matthew wasn’t offended by her brusque manner. He imagined supervising young women was no easy task, particularly when it came to gentlemen callers. His jacket obscured his badge, so she wouldn’t realize he was a sheriff, therefore was no threat to the girl’s wellbeing. He tipped his hat, “Good afternoon, ma-am. I’m Matthew Cooper. I believe my sister, Colleen Cooper is expectin’ me.”

Mrs. Phelps’ face visibly relaxed. “Yes, of course.” She opened the door wider, “Do come in, Sheriff Cooper. Your sister’s told me a lot about you. I’m Mrs. Phelps, matron of this boardin’ house.”

Matthew gave a start, a little concerned over what the word ‘a lot’ encompassed in regards to him. He looked up to see a pretty blonde girl walking down the stairs. She stopped short when she saw him, her face reddening.

Matthew gave the girl a smile, before turning to shake Mrs. Phelps hand, “You have a fine place here, ma’am. My sister seems very happy here.”

Mrs. Phelps’ face lit up at the compliment, and Matthew could swear she was blushing. Turning away quickly, she addressed the girl on the stairs, who was still staring at Matthew. “Miss. Duvall please let Miss. Cooper know her brother has arrived, and that he will be waitin’ for her in the parlor.”

Giving Matthew a shy, but approving look, Josie reluctantly hurried up the stairs to fetch Colleen.

“May I take your coat, Sheriff?” Mrs. Phelps asked, briskly.

Shrugging out of the garment, Matthew handed it over, and Mrs. Phelps hung it on the row of hooks near the front door. Indicating for Matthew to follow, she crossed the foyer, and they entered the parlor.

“Please have a seat,” Mrs. Phelps invited. “Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?”

Matthew shook his head, having just consumed a mug of coffee at the jail while informing the Marshall of Charlie Piper’s situation. “No, thank you, Mrs. Phelps.”

Mrs. Phelps nodded, “Colleen will be down momentarily. Enjoy your visit.” And she left Matthew alone.

Preferring to remain standing, Matthew crossed the room to the notice board. He was reading the third house rule with amusement, when a voice spoke nearby, “You must be Colleen’s brother?”

Matthew’s eyes flew to the right, coming to rest on an attractive young woman lounging in the doorway, a playful smile on her face.

Touching his hat, Matthew took a step in her direction. “Yes, I am. Matthew Cooper,” he introduced. He raised an eyebrow, “And, you are?”

Instead of answering, the girl walked slowly and deliberately in his direction, holding his gaze the entire time. As she approached Matthew couldn’t help noticing her eyes. They were a dazzling shade of sapphire blue, unlike any he’d ever seen.

She stopped directly in front of him, “How do you do. I’m Willa Belmore-Allen.”

They shook hands, her hand lingering longer than normally deemed appropriate in polite society, when greeting someone for the first time. Not that Matthew minded! “Pleased to meet you, Willa,” he grinned.

“I was sorry to hear that you were recently shot.” She lowered her eyes to his badge, and then back up to his face. “I expect being a sheriff is a dangerous profession?”

“It has its moments.” Matthew rotated his left arm, “My shoulder’s a lot better now, but I appreciate your concern.”

“Colleen also mentioned that you captured an entire gang of bank robbers, the day after you’d been shot!” She leaned closer, “I have to say I’m impressed.”

“Well, I had some help with that,” Matthew said, modestly.

“Matthew!” Grinning, Matthew looked beyond Willa to see his sister rushing across the room toward him, her eyes shining with delight. It was an emotional moment for the siblings, being the first time they’d seen each other since the shooting.

Colleen threw her arms around him, and then just as quickly jumped back, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry. Your injured shoulder!”

Laughing, Matthew drew her back into an embrace, “It’s okay, it’s been several weeks! It don’t hurt no more.” His blue eyes regarded her mischievously, “I can still manage to hug my sister.”

Hugging him tightly, Colleen released him, leaning back to regard him with concern, “Are you sure you’re alright? I … I was beside myself when I received the news that you’d been shot. I wanted to come home straightaway… ”

“When I woke up I asked them to write to you, tell you how important it was for you to stay in school and concentrate on your studies,” Matthew finished for her.

Colleen blew out a breath, “As if I could concentrate! On top of that, we had just heard about the Chicago fire … Two of the girl’s here have families there. Both families came through the disaster okay, thank goodness.”

Matthew looked over Colleen’s shoulder to check that Willa wasn’t one of the two girls, and was relieved when she shook her head.

With Matthew’s attention refocused on her, Willa spoke directly to him. “I’ll leave you to catch up with your sister. It was lovely to meet you, Matthew.”

Matthew nodded, “Same here.”

Colleen pivoted in Willa’s direction, just realizing she’d been in the room the entire time. Matthew thought she looked unimpressed to see Willa there. He’d never heard Colleen mention a Willa Belmore-Allen in reference to school friends, and he wondered if maybe they weren’t getting along.

Colleen frowned at Willa, “What are ya doin’ in here?”

“I was just introducing myself to your brother,” Willa informed Colleen. Shooting Matthew a final coy smile Willa turned and sashayed out of the room.

Colleen swung back to Matthew, still frowning. “So you met Willa!”

Matthew nodded, “Yeah, she seems interestin’.”

Colleen’s brown eyes flashed darkly, “What do you mean by interestin’? How long were you two talkin’?”

Grinning, Matthew held up his hands in surrender, “Not long.” He sobered, concerned by Colleen’s upset expression. “You don’t seem to think much of Miss Belmore-Allen?”

Colleen sighed, “Let’s just say she can be difficult, and leave it at that!” She rubbed her face tiredly, “Sorry for snappin’ at you just now. I’ve been workin’ all hours on my school project, and it’s takin’ a toll on me!”

“Is it finished? I promised Ma I’d have you home tomorrow. She has her heart set on havin’ all the family there, especially since it’s Katie’s first Thanksgivin’.”

Colleen looked guilty, “Nearly. Oh Matthew, I wish I could’ve been on the train on Monday, like I promised, but my Professor’s are pilin’ on the work the closer it gets to examinations, and I don’t want to fall behind.”

Reaching out, Matthew took her hand, lacing their fingers together. “Ma understands. It’s not like she hasn’t been in your position.”

Giving his hand a squeeze, Colleen smiled up at him, “You always know just the right thing to say.”

Matthew grinned back at her, “That’s what big brother’s are for. Do you have time to go out to dinner?”

Reluctantly, Colleen shook her head, “No, I’d better keep workin’ on the last of my projects.” She dropped his hand, and tucked a stray piece of rust-colored hair behind her ear. “Where are you stayin’ tonight?”

“At a boardin’ house not far from the Marshall’s office. Out-of-town Sheriff’s often room there when they transport prisoners to the jail. But I’ll be back first thing in the mornin’ to pick you up,” he warned, wagging a finger in her direction. “So you’d better be ready?”

“Yes, big brother,” Colleen recited in a singsong manner. Moving closer, she retook his hand. “Stay for dinner. I have to eat, and I’ve already cleared it with Mrs. Phelps when I explained to her that my brother would be in town tonight.”

Matthew smiled broadly, “I’d love to.”

~*~*~*~

Early the next morning Matthew and Colleen sat side-by-side as the carriage bumped along the paved street, heading toward the train station.

Deep in thought, Colleen concluded that inviting Matthew to dinner the previous night had not been the best idea. All the girls, including Dora and Cora, had behaved rather childishly and giggly throughout dinner. They had been fascinated by Matthew’s Sheriff status, and impressed with his good looks and friendliness. Willa had been the worst, with her brazen smiles, and flirtatious remarks. Ever the polite and respectful gentleman, Matthew had taken it all in his stride, but Colleen could tell he’d been flattered by all the attention, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that! If she had of known her friends were going to behave so shamelessly she would have accepted Matthew’s original offer to go out for supper.

Colleen was also fuming over the fact that Willa had taken it upon herself to introduce herself to her brother, and that Willa had made an impression on Matthew! Since the Chicago fire, when Colleen had mistakenly believed that her relationship with Willa had improved, they had reverted back to their previous interactions – cordial bordering on derision.

She was the only girl traveling out-of-town for Thanksgiving. Willa was spending the holiday with her brother, and locals, Dora and Cora were celebrating Thanksgiving dinner at Cora’s home. The cousins had thoughtfully invited Josie and Sylvia to join them, since travel to Chicago for such a short duration was simply not feasible, and due to recent events wasn’t ideal at present anyway. Josie and Sylvia had been understandably upset, eager to check with their own eyes that their families really were okay. Colleen knew how they felt; she’d been so relieved to see Matthew yesterday.

Arriving at the station, wind whipped at their clothes, as they exited the carriage.

Matthew handed Colleen her carpetbag, and pulled his hat lower on his head, when a particularly fierce gust almost sent it flying. Colleen was glad her own hat was pinned to her head.

“Wait for me in the station. I’ll see to your trunk,” he instructed.

Colleen nodded, happy to comply, not liking the looks of the black clouds forming ahead of her. It had rained heavily during the night, and by the looks of the sky, it appeared there was still more rain to come. Leaving Matthew to pay the carriage driver and arrange the luggage, she hurried toward shelter.

An icy blast of wind hit Colleen full force, almost knocking her off her feet. Shivering, Colleen pulled her coat tighter around herself and increased her pace, eager to get inside the depot. So intent on her destination she didn’t notice a deep puddle of rainwater ahead of her, until her right foot landed in the freezing water soaking clear through her boot, all the way to her stockings. Colleen sighed as her foot squelched with each further step.

The inside of the station wasn’t much warmer than the outside, as every time someone opened the door to enter or exit, a draft swept through the room. Colleen chose a seat in the corner, out of the path of the wind. She wished she could change her stockings but she hadn’t thought to pack any in her travel bag, and there wasn’t time to retrieve any from her trunk. She hoped they would dry soon.

She was smoothing her windblown hair back under her hat when the door opened again and Matthew walked in, heading straight for the ticket booth. A few minutes later he headed her way, with a newspaper tucked under his arm, and flopped down beside her on the bench.

He blew out a breath, ‘Whew, it’s really bad out there. I wonder if they’re gettin’ any of this weather back home!”

“We’ll find out soon enough,” Colleen said, rubbing her foot against the inside of her boot, as it was starting to itch something fierce.

The conductor stepped into the station and announced that the train to El Paso would be departing in five minutes

Standing, Colleen gathered her belongings, and followed her brother out onto the train platform. Before boarding, they displayed their tickets, and Matthew helped Colleen up onto the train car. Locating their seats they settled in for the three hour journey to Colorado Springs.

“Matthew,” Colleen asked once they were underway. “Do you miss Emma?”

Matthew shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and Colleen felt a little guilty for asking, as she knew he valued his privacy, and struggled when it came to discussing emotional topics involving him.

“Yeah, I do. But she had to follow her heart and her heart wasn’t with me.”

Colleen felt a lump forming in her throat. “What about you?” she asked softly. “Where’s your heart?”

“I admire and respect Emma for all that she’s achieved. To go from workin’ for Hank to travelin’ the world with a famous singer is a dream come true for Emma and I wish her every success. I liked her, and I enjoyed her company, and she helped me through a difficult time when I wasn’t copin’, but I didn’t love her like I loved Ingrid.” He gave Colleen a pleading look, “Now can we talk about somethin’ else? You know how I hate talkin’ about this stuff.”

Leaning back in her seat, Colleen sighed with happiness, “I’m just dyin’ to get home. I miss you all so much when I’m away at college.”

Matthew grinned, ‘Apparently Ma’s makin’ somethin’ called chutney for Thanksgivin’ dinner.”

Colleen laughed, “I’m not entirely sure what that is?”

“Me neither. Sully and Brian didn’t sound too keen when they told me about it.”

“Never mind. It don’t matter what we eat as long as we’re all together. I can’t wait to catch up with everyone.” She paused, considering, deciding to just go ahead and ask. “Is Andrew around for the holiday, or is he spendin’ Thanksgivin’ with his uncle in Boston?”

Matthew regarded her with some amusement. “He was there when I left yesterday, so if he plans on travelin’ anywhere he’s left it a bit late,” he teased. “’Sides he’s pretty busy settin’ up his clinic at Preston’s new hotel, which opens tonight.”

Colleen’s mouth flew open in shock, “Andrew’s gonna be workin’ for _Preston?_ ”

“He didn’t write, or telegram to tell you?” Colleen shook her head mutely, still processing the information. “I’m not surprised,” Mathew admitted. “Dr. Mike only found out a couple of days ago. Although I get the impression it’s been in discussions for a while the way Preston’s been struttin’ ‘round the place lookin’ satisfied.”

“How does Ma feel about it?”

“I think she’s disappointed, as she enjoyed workin’ with Andrew, but she understands that it’s a great opportunity for him.”

Colleen nodded, “I bet Preston’s clinic will stock all the latest equipment and medicines,” she reluctantly admitted.

“The downside bein’ that he’ll be workin’ for Preston. I couldn’t do it. Even dealin’ with him on the few occasions I’ve had to as Sheriff has been more than enough for me. Yesterday he repossessed Horace’s surrey, even though he only had two payments left.”

Colleen shook her head in disgust. It definitely sounded like something Preston would do. She stared forlornly out the window, suddenly becoming aware that at some point it had started raining. Colleen watched the raindrops strike against the glass. She hoped Andrew was fully prepared to deal with Preston on a daily basis. She had to admit that she was a little upset that Andrew hadn’t written to her and asked for her advice. Admittedly she hadn’t had any contact with him since the misunderstanding over Andrew having breakfast with Becky.

Matthew interrupted her thoughts “You’re wishin’ that Andrew had mentioned his decision to you?” he said quietly.

Colleen was in awe of his perceptiveness, but not surprised by it, as Matthew had always possessed an uncanny ability to read her thoughts and feelings. Looking down, she nodded, “We worked together quite closely all last summer, and I thought we became good friends ...” she glanced shyly at her brother. “I even thought we were startin’ to develop a special bond! But ever since I went away to college we’ve been driftin’ further and further apart.”

“Maybe he’s just been givin’ you time and space to settle in, ‘cause he knows how important school is to ya?”

“I hope you’re right, as I really like him.”

“I get the impression he feels the same way.”

Colleen’s face brightened, “Do ya really think so?”

Matthew nodded, “Trust me.”

The siblings fell into a companionable silence as the train trudged along. Reaching into her bag, Colleen pulled out her trigonometry text to study. Next to her, Matthew unfolded the Denver Post he had purchased earlier.

A couple of hours later the train pulled into Monument Station, on time. Colleen looked out the rain-blurred window, watching departing passengers emerge onto the platform, only to be flung about by the wind, and soaked through by the torrential rain. One poor gentleman even lost his hat, and it skidded across the tracks and disappeared beneath the train before he could retrieve it.

Colleen resumed her reading, feeling more excited the closer they got to home. Not long now until she saw her ma and pa, and Brian, and baby Katie! Then they would all sit down and celebrate together. Even if they were having something as unusual as chutney!

All of a sudden the train started to slow, causing Colleen to look up from her book, and Matthew to sit up straight in his seat. Moments later the train screeched to a halt, brakes squealing.

Confused, Colleen looked over at Matthew, who appeared to be just as surprised. “What’s going on? We’re nowhere near a train station! Why are we stoppin’” She could hear other passengers muttering similar statements.

Motioning for Colleen to switch seats with him, Mathew peered out, to see if he could make out the reason for the unscheduled stop, but the rain made it virtuously impossible to see anything beyond the window.

Giving up, Mathew stood, unbuttoning his coat so that his Sheriff’s badge was visible. “Stay put. I’m gonna go and see if I can find out what’s goin’ on.” He strode down the center aisle, and disappeared through the door at the end of the car.

Feeling apprehensive, and at the same time grateful that her brother was here, and that she wasn’t making the journey alone, Colleen met the eyes of a woman sitting behind her, “Don’t worry,” she reassured, more for her own piece of mind than the woman’s. “My brother will get to the bottom of this.”

The woman gave her a small smile, and turned back to her companion.

Colleen moved her right foot inside her boot. On the plus side at least her stocking had dried!

The door to the compartment opened and Matthew re-entered the car, followed by the conductor. Hurrying to Colleen’s side, Matthew sat down, and took her hand, “The conductor will explain, but don’t worry it’s nothin’ to worry about.”

At the front of the car, the conductor held up his hand for quiet, which wasn’t necessary as following his entrance the passengers had fallen silence looking at him expectantly.

“As I’m sure you are all aware the train has stopped!” Colleen was tempted to roll her eyes. Talk about stating the obvious! “Unfortunately we are unable to continue traveling safely at this time, as there are several branches and a large tree blocking the tracks.” The Conductor continued smoothly. “We have workers and volunteers out there now, working as fast as they can to clear the tracks, but it may be some time before they are able to do so, and we are able to resume travel. Please remain calm and patient, and stay in your seats. I will update you as soon as I have any further information.” And with that he continued down the aisle, obviously keen to avoid any passenger confrontations, intent on informing the occupants of the next car.

Excited chatter followed the conductor’s unfortunate announcement. Several men remarked on the poor service, complaining loudly over the unreliability of railway travel, moaning that delays of this magnitude were occurring far too often. Most passengers, however, quietly accepted their situation, realizing there was nothing they could do about it, and carried on conversations in low voices, or resumed the activities they had been engaged in during the long journey.

Colleen tried not to let her disappointment show, but it was difficult not to. “Oh, Matthew … Ma’s gonna be so upset. All the work she’s gone to, to make Thanksgivin’ dinner for us. You know how much she detests cookin’! Do ya think we’ll be home in time to celebrate with the family?” she asked hopefully.

Matthew squeezed her hand, “I’m sure we will be!” But Colleen didn’t think he sounded convinced.

Glancing out the window at the fierce weather, Colleen let out a gasp when a particularly large branch sailed by, scratching against the glass. In the distance, trees were swaying at odd angles. How likely was it really that the tracks were going to be cleared in such high winds?

“I’m gonna go and offer my help,” Matthew announced. “I just can’t sit here, when there are men out there workin’.” He stood, stretching.

Colleen grabbed his right arm, causing him to pause, and look down at her, “Matthew, you can’t!” she protested. “You’re still recoverin’ from bein’ shot. You shouldn’t be liftin’ anything as heavy as a tree.”

“I’ll be okay, Colleen,” Matthew insisted, determined to go.

Realizing he’d made up his mind, she reluctantly released his arm. “Be careful,” she whispered.

“I will,” Matthew promised, heading the same way the conductor had gone.

With a sigh, Colleen tried to study, but after ten minutes of reading the same paragraph over and over and not taking anything in, she slammed the book closed, and threw it into her bag.

Shivering with cold and worry, she hugged the dark blue cloak, Emma had made for her the week before she’d left for college, tighter around herself. The temperature had dropped significantly in the past half hour, and the train rocked and creaked as a continuous gust of wind whistled through the car.

Just then a fork of lightning lit up the sky, followed a few seconds later by a rumble of thunder. Rain battered the roof like a hail of bullets. _Please let Matthew be okay,_ Colleen prayed.

~*~*~*~

The conductor on the platform between the third and fourth cars stepped in front of Matthew, blocking his path, “Sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to return to your seat! It’s not safe for ya to be wanderin’ about the cars.”

He wasn’t the same man Matthew had spoken to earlier, so he pulled the flap of his jacket aside to reveal his badge. “I’m the local law. I understand the risk, but as Sheriff, it’s my duty and responsibly to assist durin’ a crisis. Surely an extra pair of hands to clear the tracks would be beneficial?”

Nodding gratefully, the conductor stepped aside. Leaning down he opened the gate set into the train railing, for embarking and disembarking passengers. Jumping down, Matthew landed heavily, almost losing his footing on the slippery, wet grass. A gust of wind sliced down his back, lifting his coattails.

Even though it was late morning, the combination of the dark clouds obscuring the sky, and wind and rain made it difficult for Matthew to see beyond two feet in front of him. He picked his way across the grass cautiously, wincing when a fast-moving stick connected with his leg. Whacking it aside, and swiping at his rain-soaked face, which his hat wasn’t doing a very good job of protecting, he trudged on. Further ahead he could just make out the silhouettes of several men working frantically to clear the tracks. As he drew closer Matthew could see that they were fighting a losing battle, as soon as they cleared one area, several more pieces of flying debris landed in another spot.

Matthew rushed to help a man straining to lift a heavy piece of wood. Matthew eyed the timber, troubled by its presence. “It looks like it’s from a house or a buildin’,” he commented loudly, as it was difficult to hear anything aside from the sounds of pounding rain, howling wind, and crashing thunder.

“Yeah, apparently there are reports of strong winds tearin’ up homes and buildin’s all over the place, between here and Denver,” the man yelled back, his face grim, as they proceeded to carry the wood what they judged was a safe distance away, hoping that it wouldn’t end up back on the tracks.

It was a sobering thought. Matthew instantly thought of his own, and his family’s, homestead, and the businesses in town, and he hoped the storm wasn’t heading in that direction.

Twenty minutes later, they had cleared three-quarters of the blockage, mostly trees, rocks, and bushes, but also other items that looked as if they’d once been part of a building exterior. At one point Matthew even unearthed a teapot. He stared down at it in dismay, wondering what remained of the house it had come from.

Matthew was in the process of emptying water that had collected in the brim of his hat, when he heard a shout from across the tracks. He looked over to see a man jumping up-and-down, pointing frantically at the sky. Following the man’s gaze Matthew’s own eyes widened in shock and disbelief. A dark grey funnel cloud reaching to the ground could be seen in the distance twisting and rotating, violently creating a path and destroying everything in its wake. It was a tornado, and it was heading straight for them!


	8. Chapter 8

_Thursday, November 23rd 1871 (Thanksgiving)_

“We need to get inside – now!” Matthew yelled.

The group of men raced for the train, dodging around flying leaves, branches, and blades of grass. The noise was both horrendous and frightening as the storm bore down on them.

Jumping onto the train, Matthew quickly sent the conductor to warn the driver and the train employees in the engine compartment. He raced into the first car, shouting warnings to passengers to get down on the floor, and stay there, as he rushed past. He was fully focused on reaching Colleen as quickly as possible. Throwing the door to her compartment open, he ran inside, slamming the door behind him.

Colleen, and several other passengers, had spilled out into the aisle, distressed expressions on their faces. It was obvious they had heard the commotion caused by the storm, and were unsure what was going on, and what to do. Matthew noticed a couple of women whimpering into their handkerchiefs.

“There’s a tornado headin’ straight for us,” he announced, breathlessly, reaching Colleen’s seat in three quick strides. “Everyone, get down under your seats, as low as possible.”

Colleen did as instructed, crouching down as small as she possibly could. Matthew crawled in next to her putting an arm across her back protectively. He could hear the shuffling, and low murmurs of the other people in the car as they followed suit.

“Do you think a train can stand up to a tornado?” Colleen whispered urgently, near his ear.

“Of course,” Matthew reassured, even though he wasn’t entirely sure. “Don’t worry. We’ll be okay.”

As if to prove him wrong, a huge gust of wind suddenly roared through the car, rattling the foundations, and shaking the window frames. Several lanterns blinked out, throwing sections of the car into shadows. The tornado was closing in!

Out of the corner of his eye, Matthew observed Colleen’s carpetbag lift clean off the seat and fly through the air to hit the far wall. He pulled Colleen close, covering her body with his. He felt her shudder against him. The screaming wind was so deafening that if Matthew hadn’t of been cradling Colleen he would have been sorely tempted to cover his ears. He heard several items of baggage fall to the floor. A window smashed somewhere behind them and large drops of rain hammered down, striking Matthew’s back. A woman cried out in pain and fright. Matthew felt Colleen shift beneath him, and he adjusted his position slightly, worried that he might be crushing her.

To Matthew’s immense relief the wind started to recede, and the rain settled into a steady downpour. Raising his head slowly, Matthew assessed the damage, relieved to note that aside from the broken window the car didn’t appear to have sustained any obvious structural damage.

Concerned that his sister hadn’t moved, Matthew reached for her, “Colleen! Are you hurt?”

Colleen sat up gingerly, “I’m not hurt, just too scared to move.”

Matthew carefully got to his feet, “There’s no way that tornado hit us full on. Must’ve just skimmed us.” He looked around. “Is anyone injured?” he called out.

His fellow travelers were slowly emerging from beneath their seats. Matthew’s eyes flew amongst them, taking in their disheveled appearances, and anxious, yet relieved expressions. He noticed a passenger a few seats behind him beckoning, and he hurried over.

“It’s my wife,” the man said, as Matthew reached his side. “She cut her arm on the flyin’ glass. It’s bleedin’ pretty bad.”

Colleen, who had followed him over, instantly took charge. “Matthew, fetch my bag – and a source of light!” She knelt down in front of the woman, who was holding a shawl against her arm, “Hi. I’m Colleen. What’s your name?”

The woman gave a watery smile, “I’m, Anne.”

Colleen smiled back, gently removing the shawl to inspect the cut. She looked over at Anne’s husband, “Do you have any water with you?”

“Yes, yes I do.” He quickly located his bag, and thrust a canteen of water at Colleen.

Colleen placed it within reach. Pulling out a clean handkerchief from the pocket of her dress she applied it to the wound, pressing down firmly.

Matthew returned with Colleen’s bag, a lamp attached to his belt buckle. He unfastened the bag as he walked. “What am I lookin’ for?”

“A brown, drawstring pouch. You know, the one Brian gave me last Christmas?”

“Got it. Whatdaya need?”

“A clean square of cloth, some long strips I’ve ripped up into bandages and a small bottle labeled ‘iodine.’ Removing the handkerchief, Colleen noted that the bleeding had slowed enough to allow her to wash the wound with water.

Matthew held the items out to her, almost dropping the home-made bandages as they started to unroll in his hand.

Reaching for the square cloth, Colleen unscrewed the canteen and poured some water onto the cloth. “Matthew, hold the lamp close.” She turned to the young woman, “Sorry, this may sting a little,” she said apologetically. “But I need to clean the infected area to remove any foreign objects such as glass or dirt that may have become lodged in the wound.”

Anne nodded bravely, and Colleen removed the handkerchief, and started to wash the cut. She tried to be gentle, while at the same time being as thorough as possible, but Anne still winced in pain. Anne’s husband moved closer, and took his wife’s free hand in his, in an attempt to keep her calm, and Colleen finished her task with no issue.

Colleen inspected the damage, “It doesn’t even look like you’ll need stitches. It’s stopped bleeding now.” She picked up the iodine. “I’m gonna disinfect it now.”

Anne nodded again, squeezing her husband’s hand.

Iodine applied, Colleen then bandaged Anne’s arm to protect the wound. She was careful not to wrap it too tight, and risk cutting off the circulation to Anne’s limb.

Anne gazed down at her arm, and then at Colleen, “It doesn’t even hurt now. Thank you so much, Colleen. I don’t know what we would’ve done if you hadn’t of been here.”

“Yes, we really appreciate your prompt action, and calm demeanor durin’ a crisis,” her husband added.

“My sister’s studyin’ to be a doctor,” Matthew stated proudly.

For a moment the couple looked startled, but their expressions quickly morphed into respect and admiration.

“Well, if you were our doctor we’d be happy to allow you to treat us,” Anne said softly.

Her husband nodded in agreement, “All the best with your studies.”

Repacking her bag, and saying goodbye, Colleen and Matthew returned to their seats.

“You were amazin’,” Matthew put an arm around Colleen’s shoulders, hugging her close. “You remained so composed and focused. I know I’ve seen you treat people alotta times before, but every time I do I become even prouder. You're gonna make a fine doctor, just like Ma.”

Her face flushed with pride, Colleen put her arms around him, pressing her face into his jacket, the excitement of the day catching up with her. “It was nothin’,” she mumbled. “I’m at my happiest when I’m treatin’ people. It’s more than a job to me it’s what I’m supposed to do with my life.”

Nodding, Matthew grinned, “You sound just like Dr. Mike when you say that.”

“Sometimes I wonder what our lives would’ve been like if Dr. Mike hadn’t come to Colorado Springs. I know it’s silly, but sometimes my imagination runs overtime.”

“It doesn’t bear thinkin’ about, and it don’t matter anyhow ‘cause she is part of our lives. Both her and Sully, and I’m grateful for them every day.”

“Don’t forget Katie,” Colleen reminded him, her eyes shining.

“How could I,” Matthew said, quietly reflecting upon the adorable baby, who held a special place in his heart as his youngest sister.

Colleen noticed Matthew was rubbing the area where he’d been shot. Her brow wrinkled with concern, “Is your shoulder botherin’ you?”

“It’s a little stiff,” Matthew grudgingly admitted, “Maybe I did overdo it.” He smiled, apologetically, “I need to learn to listen to my little sister more, as she knows what she’s talkin’ about.”

They both looked up, as the door to the car opened, and the conductor finally made an appearance, “Afternoon, folks. I’m afraid I have some more bad news.” The passengers just stared at him, too emotionally-drained to comment, or voice their objections. The conductor continued, “The engine car was damaged when the tornado passed so tracks clear or not, we are unable to complete the remainder of our journey to El Paso. We have contacted the closest town of Monument, and instructed them to rustle up some carriages to transport you back to town. There is a hotel in Monument which we will put you up at the railroads cost. On behalf of the Denver and Rio Grande Railroad, I apologize for any inconvenience and hardship this journey has caused you. I realize it’s Thanksgiving today, and that you had your heart set on getting home to your families, but unfortunately we are out of options.”

Again he made a hasty exit before anyone could question the decision.

Colleen’s face fell at the news. “We’re definitely not gettin’ home today,” she said sadly.

Matthew was disappointed as well, “It’s not lookin’ good. Well then, we’ll just have to celebrate Thanksgivin’ a little late is all.”

Colleen’s hand suddenly flew to her mouth, as she arrived at the same conclusion Matthew had come to earlier, “Oh my gosh! You don’t think the tornado will hit Colorado Springs, do you? It was headin’ in that general direction.”

“Folks in town are prepared for tornadoes. It’s not an uncommon occurrence around these parts.”

“How far away do you think the carriages are?”

“I ain’t sure. We might as well go back to our readin’ while we wait.” He looked around, “If I can find my newspaper that is.” Spotting it under the seat across the aisle, he walked over, bending down to retrieve it. Returning to his seat, he proceeded to turn the pages, settling on a story involving the trial of a man who murdered his business partner. He became so engrossed in the article that it took him a while to realize that Colleen had fallen asleep, curled up against the window. He glanced at her fondly, thinking that sleep was just what she needed, due to her recent late nights spent studying combined with the events of the day.

It was another two hours before the Monument carriages arrived. Gently shaking Colleen awake, Matthew gathered up his and Colleen’s bags, and they headed outside. It had stopped raining, and all that remained of the wind was a gentle breeze. If it wasn’t for the debris spread all over the ground, the smashed train windows, and the fact that they were stranded in the middle of nowhere, Matthew would’ve thought he’d imagined the tornado.

They proceeded to the baggage car to see about Colleen’s trunk. It hadn’t been unloaded yet, so Matthew arranged to have it transported to one of the carriages, for them to collect at Monument.

On the way to the carriage they would be taking to the hotel they passed a trio of impeccably tailored successful-looking gentlemen, climbing into a carriage of their own. Overhearing their conversation, Colleen was surprised to hear Preston’s name.

Stopping short, she almost caused Matthew to crash straight into her.

“Colleen,” Matthew complained, stopping just in time.

Colleen held up a hand to shush him, “I just heard one of those men mention the name Preston A. Lodge III.” She indicated to the businessman who had spoken.

Curious, Matthew approached, with Colleen trailing. “Excuse me,” he asked. “I’m Matthew Cooper, Sheriff of Colorado Springs. I couldn’t help overhearin’ you mention a man from town – Preston Lodge?”

“Ah,” said the man, looking down at them from his high seat. “You know Preston Lodge. It must be a great honor to have such a fine and upstanding man as part of your town!” It took all of Matthew’s resolve to stop himself from making a biting remark. “Unfortunately, we were supposed to be at the opening ceremony of his hotel, the Springs Chateau Health Resort, but it seems we will be unable to make it. Perhaps you could escort us there, Sheriff?”

Matthew shook his head, “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. I have no idea what kind of shape the roads are in, and until we can access the damage, I’m afraid travel to Colorado Springs is out of the question.”

“I’ve work … know … Dr. Andrew Cook, the physician hired to work at the hotel, and he’s a wonderful doctor,” Colleen piped up from beside him. “Mr. Lodge is fortunate to have him runnin’ his clinic.”

The three men stared at her as if she’d grown two heads. Matthew could tell that his sister’s opinion of Andrew’s capability as a doctor meant nothing to them. All they saw was a pretty young woman who they concluded knew little, if anything about life.

“Well, we’d better be gettin’ along,” Matthew said firmly, ushering Colleen away with a hand on her lower back. “Our carriage is about to leave.”

Matthew and Colleen glanced at each other with a twinge of sadness as the carriage pulled away, and headed in the opposite direction of home!


	9. Chapter 9

_Thursday, December 14th 1871_

“It looks real beautiful, Mr. Baker,” Colleen called from the front porch of the boarding house. She hugged her white woolen shawl tighter around herself as a draft of wind blew through her.

She sidestepped to the right as Mr. Baker hefted the large, green pine tree up the steps, and through the front door.

Colleen followed Mr. Baker, and the tree, closing the front door behind her, to shut out the cold.

“Over here, Mr. Baker,” Sylvia called excitedly, as he entered the parlor. “We’ve chosen this spot as it’s the farthest away from the fire, and we don’t wanna risk the tree dryin’ up.”

Impeded by tree branches, Mr. Baker peered around the side of the pine to see where she was. Noting her position, he carefully aimed the tree in her direction.

“Sylvia!” Willa stood by the fireplace. “Get out of the way. Mr. Baker can’t put the tree down if you’re standing there.”

Face as red as the square piece of satin material she was standing on to protect the wooden floor from any water damage, or stray pieces of pine, Sylvia quickly moved out of the way.

With a sigh of relief, Mr. Baker relinquished the tree, leaning it into the corner for the time being.

Seated on the settee, Dora said, “Mr. Baker, we just made some hot coca. I expect you’re feelin’ pretty tired and cold after luggin’ a tree ‘round. Shall I pour you a cup?”

“Much obliged, Miss Stein,” Mr. Baker said gratefully, sinking into one of the armchairs. Removing his gloves, he accepted the coca, cradling the mug with both hands to warm them up.

The six girls gathered around, Cora and Willa joined Dora on the settee, Josie collapsed into the second armchair, Sylvia took the footstool, and Colleen perched on the arm of the settee, next to Cora. Dora poured them all mugs of steaming, hot cocoa and handed them around.

“We can’t thank you enough for gettin’ a tree for us.” Colleen beamed at Mr. Baker, gingerly taking a sip of the hot beverage, being careful not to burn her tongue.

The other girls followed suit, thanking the man who’d driven them around all term, profusely.

“Do you think Mrs. Phelps will like it?” Josie glanced over at the tree.

“I’m sure she’ll very much appreciate your kind and thoughtful gesture,” Mr. Baker said. “We’ve never had a tree before.”

The girls were all heading home tomorrow, Colleen to Colorado Springs, Dora and Cora to their Denver houses, Willa to New York, and Josie and Sylvia to Chicago to see their families for the first time since the fire. They had wanted to do something nice for Mrs. Phelps and Mr. Baker to thank them for housing them, and also because sister and brother would be spending the holidays at the boarding house. They had pondered ideas of various ways to decorate the interior, but then Colleen had mentioned the tree the town decorated every year in the center of the main street, and the others had thought it was a wonderful idea! They had been a little disappointed over the fact that they’d had to enlist Mr. Baker’s help to acquire the tree, feeling it spoiled the surprise somewhat, but had been reassured over the fact that a bare tree was a far cry from how it would look once they finished decorating it!

“Once you’ve helped us shift the tree into place, we’ll need you to stay out of the parlor for the rest of the afternoon, so we can at least partly surprise you,” Colleen said.

“Indeed I will.” Mr. Baker’s eyes sparkled with mirth.

“What time is Mrs. Phelps expected home?” Willa asked.

“Around 5 o’clock. She’s at a friend’s tea party.”

The girls smiled at each other, classes had finished for the term the previous day, so they could devote the entire afternoon to decorating.

Mr. Baker drained the last of his cocoa, and stood up, “Now, let’s get this tree standin’!”

~*~*~*~

The girls circled the tree, admiring their handiwork, thrilled with the final result. The pleasant smells of evergreen, pinecone, cinnamon, and popcorn wafted over them, assaulting their senses.

Josie grabbed Sylvia’s hand, “It’s the best Christmas tree ever.”

Gazing at the tree in wonder, Sylvia, Cora, and Dora all nodded in agreement.

“It’s a little overcrowded,” Willa frowned.

As much as Colleen loved the tree, and thought it looked pretty, she didn’t completely disagree with Willa’s assessment. With its ribbons, paper chains, paper lanterns, pinecones, popcorn balls, and cinnamon bunches, as well as glass ball ornaments Willa had generously purchased, maybe they’d gone slightly overboard!

Behind Willa’s back, Cora and Dora shot her sour looks.

Colleen’s eyes drifted to the top of the tree, to the patchwork star, sewn together using several colored pieces of material, Josie had spent hours sewing. She had a real talent for needlepoint!

Strewn across the coffee table lay three presents – one each for Mrs. Phelps, Mr. Baker, and Miss Swanson, as well as their gifts for each other. The girls carefully transported them under the tree.

“Just perfect,” Josie clapped her hands together.

They all jumped as they heard the front door open and close, followed by low voices. It was obvious Mr. Baker was trying to delay Mrs. Phelps! The girls quickly filed out into the foyer, closing the door firmly behind them. They formed a chain blocking the entrance to the parlor.

The boarding house matron eyed them suspiciously, “What are you girls up to?”

“We have a surprise for you,” Colleen announced.

“In the parlor,” Josie added.

The girls parted on either side, and Willa reached down to open the door so Mrs. Phelps and Mr. Baker could enter the room first.

Mrs. Phelps was a little suspicious of their beaming faces, but her curiosity got the better of her and she stepped through the door.

She gasped, her eyes immediately drawn to the vast tree in the corner. She took in the beautiful homemade decorations, marveling over the time and effort that had gone into making them.

Tears sprang to her eyes. She turned to the smiling boarders with a watery smile. “Did you girls do all this – for me?”

The girls nodded collectively, thrilled she was so pleased.

Mrs. Phelps hugged each of them in turn. “I’m thankful to have such kind, thoughtful girls to share my home with.”

“Miss Swanson left for the day, while we were decoratin’, so she missed the tree, and she doesn’t work Friday’s,” Dora said in disappointment.

“I will show Miss Swanson the tree on Monday, and let her know it was a gift from you girls,” Mrs. Phelps promised.

“We thought we would exchange gifts, now, before dinner,” Colleen said. “But we were hopin’ you, Mr. Baker, and Miss Swanson would save openin’ your gifts from us ‘till Christmas?” They had all chipped in to buy, pretty bonnets for Mrs. Phelps and Miss Swanson, and a pair of leather gloves for Mr. Baker.

Mrs. Phelps looked over at Mr. Baker, who nodded, “We’ll think of you all when we open them.”

Due to the lack of seats, Josie and Sylvia happily arranged themselves on the rug in front of the fire, while the rest of the group sat down on the settee and armchairs, with Colleen taking the footstool, deliberately positioning it close to the fire, within line of sight to the Christmas tree.

Eager to be the first to distribute her gifts, Josie jumped up from the rug, heading for the tree. She returned moments later, carrying five identically-wrapped packages, passing them out.

“Unwrap them together, as they’re all the same,” Josie advised. “I’ll count to three. One, two – three!”

Giggling, the five college students frantically untied the ribbon, ripping at paper. Colleen and Willa were fastest than the other three, carefully unwrapping the tissue paper that contained the gift.

“Oh my gosh,” Colleen exclaimed. “It’s beautiful.” Josie had sewn them all smaller versions of the patchwork star that graced the top of the parlor Christmas tree. “This will look lovely on the town Christmas tree.”

“My mother’s very particular about the way we trim our tree, but she allows me to decorate my bedroom how I like, so I will hang it up there,” Willa said.

“Our turn,” Dora and Cora chorused. They had saved up their money, and bought their friends bars of rose-scented soap (not the Gilda St. Clair kind, but a cheaper version), as well as baked them all sugar cookies to eat on the train.

Colleen passed out her gifts next. She had made them all lavender bags, by bending bunches of tied stems back over the flower heads, weaving a length of ribbon throughout the stems, and finishing off with a bow.

“You can put it in your trunk to keep your clothes fresh, or sleep with it under your pillow. The Cheyenne Indians say lavender is a relaxin’ herb and that it helps you sleep better.”

Sylvia held the lavender near her face. “It smells heavenly.”

Dora nodded at Colleen, “I’ll definitely be tryin’ the pillow thing.”

“I’m next,” Willa stated. Colleen noticed the parcels were all the same shape aside from the one Willa handed her. Beyond curious, Colleen hurriedly opened it. It was a leather-bound book entitled, “Latest Advancements in Medical Equipment and Medicines.” It must have cost Willa a small fortunate. Colleen didn’t even think her ma owned a copy.

She smiled at Willa, “Thank you. I love it. It was only recently published.”

Giving her a small smile back, Willa nodded.

Josie squealed, jumping to her feet to give Willa a hug. Willa had gifted the other girls, expensive silk and lace shawls.

Standing, Sylvia wrapped the delicate, white material around herself. “I can’t believe I actually own somethin’ like this. Thanks awfully, Willa.”

Willa waved her hand in the air, “It was nothing.”

“I don’t really approve of you bein’ so extravagant, Miss Belmore-Allen,” Mrs. Phelps informed the girl.

Willa’s blue eyes narrowed, “Why not! I can afford it.”

“Well I suppose I’ll allow it, just this once,” Mrs. Phelps stated, not wishing to start an argument with Miss Belmore-Allen the day before the girls were due to depart.

To distract Willa, Sylvia went to get her gifts. “I hope you like them,” she said anxiously, placing a present on each girls lap.

A moment later, Colleen ran a hand gently over the dainty cream linen handkerchief, edged with lace.

“I bought the linen, but I added the lace myself,” Sylvia informed them.

“Thanks, Sylvia,” Dora said. “I lost one of my handkerchiefs in the street the other day.” Colleen noticed, Sylvia had even gone as far as to make Dora’s handkerchief pink, and Cora’s blue – their favorite colors!

“Well, you are lucky, lucky, girls,” Mrs. Phelps said, her eyes twinkling. “Such beautiful gifts.”

“Mrs. Phelps and I have something for each of you as well.” Mr. Baker reached into the pocket of his coat, producing five, small, slim-wrapped parcels. “Just a little somethin’.”

Mr. Baker had made them all wooden bookmarks, even going as far as to engrave a daisy into the wood. Laughing with delight, the girls thanked the boarding house owner, and her brother, liberally.

Leaning back in her armchair, Colleen reflected on what a wonderful end to her first term this was. She was so happy to be going home for Christmas to spend time with her family and friends, but at the same time, she couldn’t wait to return early next year for another semester!

~*~*~*~

Willa paced the boarding house foyer. “Where is she?” she demanded.

Sitting atop her trunk near the door to the dining room, Colleen rubbed her hands together. “She’ll be here,” she reassured with more confidence than she felt. They only had ten minutes before Mr. Baker had to drive them to the station, and Mrs. Phelps hadn’t yet returned from the post office. Their end-of-term examination results had been posted two days prior and were expected to arrive in today’s post. Mr. Baker was busy readying the carriage to drive, Colleen, Willa, Josie, and Sylvia to their various trains, so Mrs. Phelps had reluctantly agreed to walk to the post office and back on their behalf.

“If Mrs. Phelps isn’t back in time, or by chance our letters aren’t in today’s mail, Mrs. Phelps said she’d post them out to us,” Josie reminded Willa, not looking forward to receiving her own results, particularly her grade in botany.

Willa stopped in mid-stride, turning to glare at Josie, “I can’t wait that long.”

Dora tied the ribbon of her green bonnet under her chin, “Calm down, Willa. Pacin’ won’t make Mrs. Phelps arrive any quicker.”

“It’s fine for you. You live in Denver. My letter will take ages to arrive in New York.”

Giving up, Dora threw her hands in the air.

Sylvia, who had been keeping watch from the porch, raced inside. “She’s just comin’ up the street now,” she announced breathlessly.

Chatting excitedly, the young students raced outside. Mrs. Phelps was just lifting the iron latch on the gate, as the girls ran down the path.

Smiling, Mrs. Phelps held up a stack of envelopes. “I have your school results. For goodness sakes girls, get out of the cold. Colleen and Willa, you aren’t even wearin’ hats, and none of you are wearin’ coats or gloves.”

In the warmth of the foyer, Mrs. Phelps called each girls name, and they stepped forward to receive their letter.

Letter in hand, Colleen closed her eyes briefly, saying a silent prayer. With shaking hands, she ripped open the envelope and unfolded the piece of paper within. A beat later she released a huge breath, “All A’s except for Trigonometry which is an A minus.”

“Well done, Miss Cooper.” Walking over, Mrs. Phelps put an arm around her shoulders.

Willa’s nose wrinkled in disgust. Haphazardly refolding her letter, she attempted to shove it back in the envelope.

Curious over her reaction, Colleen ventured to ask, “How did you do?”

Willa sighed, “Not very well. I only received three A’s. The other two are A minuses.”

Colleen stared at her. ”What’s so bad about that? They are good marks.” She was secretly pleased Willa hadn’t scored quite as high as her.

“Yes, excellent results, Miss Belmore-Allen.” Mrs. Phelps patted Willa’s arm.

Willa shrugged, “I can do better, and I will.”

Josie let out a groan, “You think you’ve got problems. I only received C’s and B’s. In fact my grade for botany was a C minus meanin’ I just scraped through.”

“Look on the bright side, at least you don’t have to repeat the subject,” Sylvia said, pleased with her own marks of all B’s.

Josie sighed, relieved, “You’re right. That would be just awful.”

Dora and Cora had received the exact same grades – three A minuses, and two B pluses.

“I’m very proud of all my girls.” Mrs. Phelps nodded in approval. “I’ve boarded girls in the past, who have failed classes. You should all be pleased with your accomplishments. You all deserve to rest and relax over the holidays.”

Mr. Baker appeared in the doorway, and the next ten minutes were a hustle and bustle of excited activity as trunks were transported to the back of the carriage, last minute checks were made of carry on belongings, and gloves, hats and coats were thrown on.

The girls said their goodbyes to Mrs. Phelps, and trudged down the stairs.

Halfway up the path, Colleen turned, her gaze lingering on the house. She gave Mrs. Phelps one last wave, and hurried to catch up with the others. Home, here I come!

**END OF TERM ONE!**


End file.
